Deception at Death's Door
by Maria Albert
Summary: When Kid is abducted, evidence points to Mifune and the Witch Angela. Black*Star and Tsubaki have doubts, but Soul and Maka will show no mercy. Lord Death is losing control, Spirit is keeping secrets, Stein is out for blood, Justin is missing, Giriko is gleeful, and Crona can't deal with it. Kid x Soul, Maka x Crona, Death x Spirit x Stein, Giriko x Justin, Black*Star x Tsubaki.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:  
These characters are under copyright by ****Atsushi Ōkubo, Squar Enix, Yen Press, Shōnen,** **  
Akatsuki Yamatoya.** **Madman Entertainment, Manga Entertainment, Funimation,** **and/or others. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.  
**

 **A/N:  
A new chapter will be posted every week, on Thursday, until the story is complete. Different chapters are in the points of view (POV) of different characters. A POV change or time change within a chapter will be marked with "0 0 0". Reviews, favorites and follows are appreciated.**

 **You might also like my** _ **Shingeki no Kyojin (Attack on Titan)**_ **stories, and my** _ **D. Gray-Man/Karneval**_ **story.**

Chapter 1 – Ambush: Will Kid and Liz Survive?

"Liz!" Kid yelled in panic and pain, as his Weapon flew from his shattered left hand, into the brick wall of the alley. "Liz, answer me!" he cried desperately, as she shifted from Weapon to human form, but ominously lay still and horrifyingly quiet, instead of yelling at him and assuring him she was fine. If it had been the edged side of the katana and not the back of the blade, she'd almost certainly be dead, and half his hand would have been sliced off. Both thoughts were terrifying.

Kid lifted Patty in his right hand and fired repeatedly into the shadows he'd been attacked from, knowing it was useless, that his aim was off because his precious and essential symmetry was as broken as the bones in his left hand. _Not that it matters. I can't fight what I can't see. How can he be using the shadows against me? I control all shadow. Why won't they reveal my enemy to me?_

 _From the weapons he's using, my opponent must be Mifune, my target. But Black*Star swore he was honorable when he faced him, so why did he ambush me? I never anticipated an attack like this. Is he afraid of me, because as a Reaper, I'm more powerful than a mere Meister? I don't feel particularly powerful right now._

Kid fired into the shadow on the right, certain he'd be attacked from that side now, that his foe would expect him to be taken by surprise again, and go for his other weapon. He roared in pain and frustration, feeling the distinctive crunch and snap of breaking ribs as the katana lashed out and into his left side, unexpectedly striking from the left again.

He staggered, the hand holding Patty shaking, as he drew back from the shadows on his left, and began frantically backing out of the alley. _One more hit like that and I'll be finished._

"Kid, you can't run away! What about Liz? You can't leave her there! Come on! We can take this guy!" Patty urged, obviously blissfully unaware of how severely wounded he already was.

Every breath was agony, but at least he was still breathing, and his mouth hadn't filled with the frothing blood indicative of a punctured lung, not yet, but it was only a matter of time, unless he ended this quickly. He could feel the broken, jagged ends of his ribs shifting and grinding against one another with every step. "I'm not running." _I can't run. I can barely walk. I'm momentarily retreating. A strategic withdrawal, into the light, what there is of it._

The broken streetlights, which had only moments ago made him feel more at home, in the shadows, as much as they had frustrated him, now took on a more ominous significance. _So the three lights weren't randomly extinguished; it was part of the trap. But he could have broken four, instead of two on this side of the street, and one on the other. It would have made it darker and Liz wouldn't let me break another one to even out… Liz! Damn it, you worthless piece of asymmetrical garbage, not now! Concentrate! You have to protect Patty and save Liz. And complete your mission. You've never failed a mission for your father before._

Kid vainly cast his Soul Detect into the alley once more. _Still nothing! That Witch must be using a more powerful form of Soul Protect than any we've ever seen. It doesn't just disguise them as human, it makes them completely undetectable. Could such a young Witch as Angela be so powerful? But Liz… I still feel her soul, she's still alive, but her wound could well prove fatal. Left untreated, it will be. She needs to go to the Infirmary immediately! But how can… Beelzebub!_

In a flash of inspiration, Kid summoned his flying skateboard and jumped onboard, cursing himself for his exuberance as knives of pain lanced him from his side and a red film momentarily clouded his vision. _No time for that now! You can pass out later._

Kid forced the pain down, and darted into the alley, bending down and scooping up Liz's limp form, fighting a scream as her weight strained his injured side, as he turned a precise 180 degrees and then rocketed back out the mouth of the alley, firing randomly into the shadows as they flew, trying to keep his attacker at bay as his heart hammered.

The perfection of Liz's face had been obliterated, her nose shattered, her mouth smeared with blood, but worse, he knew she had severe internal injuries from the impact of the blade. He could hear Liz struggling to breathe, the sound a wet, rasping gurgle so faint that he was terrified he'd hear her stop. But then something lashed out and wrapped around his right ankle, tearing him off Beelzebub.

In a final act of desperation, he thrust Patty into the waistband of Liz's pants and tossed the sisters onto the board. "Take them to the DWMA, to the Infirmary, now!" he commanded Beelzebub, as he was dragged back into the alley. To his relief, by the light of the bleeding, grinning moon he saw the sisters rocket safely away.

 _Now to save myself. I still have my Shadow Control, if I can get it to work, and my Reaper Martial Arts_. Kid reached for whatever was binding his ankle. _Steel cable? You won't subdue me so easily!_

But another sinuous lash wrapped around his right wrist, and a third around his left, yanking taut, making him cry out in pain and sparks of light flash before his eyes and his stomach heaved as the broken bones of his hand were ground together, even as his left ankle was ensnared as well and he was suspended, spread-eagle above the alley floor.

Belatedly he saw the source of the cables, as it emerged from the concealing shadows. Cables were protruding like tentacles from a grotesquely asymmetrical torso, additional ones waving wildly in the moonlight, a number of them grasping multiple katana. Kid stared in consternation at the metal monstrosity that had ensnared him. _Not Mifune?_ _A robot? But how…?_

Then he heard a laugh, a familiar, chilling one, and a grinning human head emerged from the steel body, belatedly revealing its master's Soul Wavelength. _Giriko! It's a golem! A steel golem!_

"So, do you think our little act was convincing? Even if the DWMA didn't believe it was Mifune before, from the evidence we planted to lure you here, and our attacks, they will now, right? Maybe we'll leave behind a broken katana too, to add fuel to the fire." A tentacle lashed out, slamming the tip of one of the blades against the brick wall as another lashed out and snapped it in half. Then the first tentacle dropped the useless hilt beside the broken blade.

"There now. A nice final touch, don't you think? Everyone knows that sword-wielding marshmallow has a soft spot for children, so I let those two girls get away to tell everyone about the katana. Or one of the girls at least, since that other one probably won't live long enough to make it to the DWMA."

 _Liz! Please be alright!_

"That will probably just fire them up all the more, her dying, right?" Giriko prodded, and then scowled. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue? What a disappointment. I've heard so much about you, but it looks like the big fish I was sent after is nothing more than a minnow, after all," he taunted, as he leapt out of the golem.

 _Damn it! Why won't the shadows obey me?_ "You won't get away with this, you monster," Kid proclaimed, and then winced at how pathetic and cliché he sounded. But he'd never been thrown so off balance so early in a fight before, or rendered so helpless.

Giriko laughed, obviously infuriatingly entertained. "Did you like that little trick of my soul being hidden, and that other spell, preventing you from manipulating the shadows? There's no ally like a Witch, is there? Lucky for you, the boss wants you alive and as unharmed as possible.

"Of course, she wasn't very specific about how much damage I could do. She doesn't need to know how badly you were hurt in the battle, and how much was just for fun, right? After all, you're a Reaper. It takes a lot to kill one of you, doesn't it? Come on, you owe me for not being more of a challenge. Let's see how much damage I can do," the vicious, chainsaw wielding maniac taunted, as his boot lashed into Kid's already wounded side, the brutal chain slicing a bloody furrow.

To his abject humiliation, Kid screamed, as his blood sprayed across the left wall of the alley, creating a macabre, abstract painting of blood on brick, the sight of which made him more nauseous than the pain from his injury.

Giriko laughed, a wild, ecstatic sounding roar of delight. "That's it! Bleed for me and sing to me boy! It's time for me to play!"

0 0 0

"Black*Star, you idiot, I told you Maka would be even worse at football than she is at basketball," Soul scolded, as he carried her to the Infirmary.

Maka could feel her face burning bright red, but Soul had refused to put her down. "It's just a sprained ankle. I'm not dying," she argued, although secretly she felt warmth in her chest, knowing how worried Soul was about her, and how much of a gentleman he was being, even if he was being overprotective.

"I said I was sorry," Black*Star grumbled. "It's not my fault Maka wasn't able to tackle a God like me without getting hurt."

Tsubaki's scowl softened. "Wait, that's what happened? I thought you tackled Maka."

"What, are you kidding me? He's still breathing, right?" Soul scoffed.

Maka felt her blush darken.

"This never would have happened if Kid wasn't off on some stupid mission. I knew we shouldn't have tried to play boys against girls without Patty and Liz here," Black*Star complained.

"Yeah, no one's quite as tough as the Thompson sisters," Maka agreed wistfully. She wished she was stronger, like them.

Black*Star slammed open the door to the Infirmary. If anyone other than Nygus and Dr. Stein had been inside, they would have jumped at the loud intrusion.

"Maka, what happened?" Nygus asked solicitously, as Soul set Maka down on one of the two examination beds.

"She hurt her right ankle. We think it's sprained, but it could be broken," Soul answered for her.

"My tongue is fine, you know. I can speak for myself," Maka complained, folding her arms crossly.

Dr. Stein eased off her shoe. Maka could tell he was being surprisingly gentle, but she couldn't help wincing and fisting her hands.

"Watch it!" Soul snarled.

"Knock it off, Soul. He's being careful," Maka defended.

"I'm going to have to probe it and manipulate it with my fingers to test and see whether she needs an X-ray," Dr. Stein cautioned.

"Alright. Just try not to hurt her too much," Soul grumbled.

Just then the door flew open and Maka's father Spirit ran into the room. "Where's Maka? What's happened to my little angel?" he demanded, grabbing her into a tight hug.

Maka rolled her eyes. "Ow! Come on, Dad, quit it! Let Dr. Stein work," she complained.

"Oh Maka! You're so brave, so wonderful, just like your mother!" Spirit gushed.

"Well, then, shouldn't you be busy chasing after anyone in a skirt while my back is turned?" Maka snapped.

Spirit's jaw dropped and his face fell.

"Cheating on Maka's mom isn't cool. Not cool at all," Soul chastised.

"Hey, it's not like tha…" Spirit began, but he was cut off as Kid's skateboard flew into the room through the open door and abruptly stopped beside the empty bed, Liz draped limply over the hovering board, her face, hair and blouse bloody, and Patty in her gun form tucked into her pants.

As soon as the board stopped moving, Patty changed into human form. "Dr. Stein, help Liz! That sword guy hit her and she can't breathe right!"

Stein was already at Liz's side, carefully transferring her to the bed, Nygus rushing to aid him.

"Where's Kid? Is he alright?" Stein demanded, as he whipped out a stethoscope and tore open Liz's blouse and began listening to her chest.

To Maka's horror Patty's eyes welled with tears. "I don't know!" she wailed. "Beelzebub, now that you brought her here, will you listen to me again? Please take me back to Kid!" she demanded, hopping onboard.

"Patty, wait! We'll come too!" Maka cried.

"You can't! You're hurt! We'll go!" Black*Star insisted, hopping onto the back of the board and sheathing Tsubaki, who had transformed to Weapon mode for the trip.

"Black*Star, catch!" Nygus yelled, and Black*Star instinctively turned and caught the small mirror she tossed to him. "Lord Death can track you through it and your call will be clearer for the others listening."

He tucked the mirror into his shirt and Beelzebub rocketed away.

"No, wait!" Maka cried, but Soul held her back and then they were gone.

"There's no way we could have fit on Kid's skateboard too. I trust Black*Star, Tsubaki and Patty to save him," Soul explained.

"Nygus, quick, get the respirator! She's got a punctured lung. Hurry, we're losing her! Soul, get Maka out of here, I need to prep for surgery! Spirit, inform Lord Death his son's in trouble," Stein demanded.

0 0 0

Without another word Soul scooped up Maka and hurried from the room, following in Spirit's wake. Soul was unable to keep up with him, because of carrying Maka. He neared the Death Room and got into earshot mid-sentence.

"… do you mean, you can't sense his soul? He's part of your own soul. You told me that no matter where he was in the world, you could always sense him," Spirit argued from up ahead, just beyond the Guillotine Arches.

"I told you, I can't feel anything!" a voice roared, dark and terrifying.

Soul froze. That wasn't Lord Death or anyone else he'd ever heard, though something about it reminded him of the devil inside of him.

"Sir, calm down. Killing me won't help you find your son," Spirit rasped. He sounded as if he was choking.

Soul cautiously crept forwards, Maka wide-eyed, in his arms. He froze again as he saw Spirit dangling from Lord Death's hand, being held by the throat a good half meter above the floor, as a vortex of ebony shadow swirled around the Shinigami, seemingly emanating from him.

"You're right. I'm sorry, Spirit," the alien voice proclaimed, gradually changing, until Maka's dad's name was spoken in the usual playful lilting voice of Lord Death as he released Spirit.

"It's alright. Believe me, sir, I understand," Spirit assured him.

 _What the hell's going on?_

Then Lord Death turned to face them and Soul froze again, his heart pounding. He'd never been afraid of Death before, but he'd never seen Death lose his temper and attack Spirit before either, or sound so monstrous.

"It's just Soul and Maka," Spirit said quickly, interposing himself between them and Lord Death. "You shouldn't be here, kids," he scolded, but there was more fear than censure in his voice.

"Relax, Spirit. I'm not about to hurt them. We have enough hurt children already," Lord Death soothed, thankfully again in his normal voice.

"Of course not, sir," Spirit agreed, the tension in his shoulders visibly relaxing.

"I'm already tracking Patty, Black*Star and Tsubaki's progress on my mirror. There's nothing faster than Beelzebub, but I've alerted every Meister and Weapon in the area to assist them in locating my son. I'm sure Kid's fine," Death soothed, but with an unsettling brittleness underlying his usual calm and patient voice.

 _Crap. He's lying,_ Soul realized, his heart starting to pound faster again.


	2. Chapter 2 - Hostage: Ransom and Rescue?

**These characters are under copyright by** **Atsushi Ōkubo, Squar Enix, Yen Press, Shōnen,** **  
Akatsuki Yamatoya.** **Madman Entertainment, Manga Entertainment, Funimation,** **and/or others. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.**

 **A/N:**

 **CAUTION: Brief suicidal thoughts.**

 **If you like this story, my** _ **Shingeki no Kyojin (Attack on Titan)**_ **stories, and my** _ **D. Gray-Man/Karneval**_ **stories, you might also enjoy my published original four book high fantasy series, Descent of Kings, which includes strong female, multi-ethnic, bisexual and gay characters, and is available on Amazon and through the publisher, Dreamspinner. It's a tale of lost kingdoms, valiant and desperate heroes, and epic battles and quests, in a medieval world populated by humans, Elves, Dwarves, Ogres and mythical beasts, battling a god-like insane necromancer and his army of the dead.**

Chapter 2 – Hostage: Ransom and Rescue?

"It's that alley, up ahead, near the broken streetlights," Patty stated anxiously.

"Enchanted Sword mode, Tsubaki," Black*Star ordered, as he drew her, and she turned into her most powerful form, as he jumped off Beelzebub and ran into the alley, eager to face his opponent. "Show yourself, you bastard!" he challenged, but the alley was ominously still.

Tsubaki channeled some of her Soul Energy into light, and the sword radiated brilliantly, dispelling the shadow all around them. "Oh Lord Death," she whispered in horror, as her light revealed fresh blood spattered everywhere, on the brick, the filthy alley floor, and thickly coating the all too familiar skull emblem that had been torn from Kid's suit and left beside bloody footprints, as if to taunt them.

Black*Star snatched up the skull. "Damn it! We need to follow the footprints."

Tsubaki turned back into human form. "Patty, who did this? Who were you fighting? What happened?"

"It was…" Her eyes widened and she stopped speaking, staring at Black*Star. "I'm not allowed to say. Black*Star isn't supposed to know about it. Sis and Kid made me promise."

"Damn it, Patty, whoever it is hurt Kid and your sister, and it looks like he took Kid. This is no time for secrets! We need to know who we're after!" Black*Star yelled, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her.

"I can't tell you! Liz made me promise with a pinky swear! If I tell, she'll die!" Patty wailed.

"Patty, sweetie, that's not how pinky promises work," Tsubaki soothed. "The person who breaks the promise is the one who could have something bad happen to them, but only if the person they promised to wanted to hurt them. You know Liz would never want to hurt you, right? So it's safe to tell us," she encouraged.

"Are you sure?" Patty quavered.

"Of course I'm sure. You know I'd never do anything to hurt you or your sister, right? I'm your friend," Tsubaki assured her.

"It was the Swordsman Mifune and the Witch Angela. They've done some bad things and need to be punished, but Black*Star let them go twice now, because he didn't want to kill a kid, even if she's a Witch."

Black*Star looked at her wide-eyed with disbelief. "Mifune attacked Liz and Kid? But that doesn't make sense. They're both still kids. Mifune doesn't use the blade end of his sword on kids, he uses the back. He doesn't kill kids. He says it would give him nightmares."

"When he hit Liz and Kid's hand, and his ribs, he used the back," Patty confirmed. "But now there's all this blood."

"Maybe something changed? Maybe something bad happened to Angela, and Mifune blames the DWMA and wants revenge?" Tsubaki hazarded.

"You mean that cute little Witch girl might be dead?" Black*Star asked, as appalled by the thought as he was by the possibility that Mifune might have almost killed Liz and Kid.

"Someone might have intentionally made him think we were the ones to hurt Angela, so he'd attack," Tsubaki added softly. "Let's look for other clues." She illuminated and searched every centimeter of the alley. Black*Star!" she cried.

He turned and saw that against one of the walls, deep in what had been shadow, apparently lost in the battle and either unnoticed or considered worthless, lay a very familiar looking broken katana.

Black*Star frowned, picking it up, studying it intently. "It looks like one of his. The guard and grip and wrapping. Damn it!"

He turned from the blade to the blood. "Tsubaki? Do you… Do you think all this blood could be Kid's?" Black*Star asked solemnly, with none of his usual bravado, clutching the skull in one hand and the broken sword in the other, so hard that he felt they might crack in his hand, even though they were both made of metal, the razor edge of the blade facing outwards, between his fingers and palm.

Tsubaki bit her lip, looking from Black*Star to Patty. "Even if it is, he's a Reaper. They're really tough and heal really quickly, right Patty? I'm sure he's alright."

Black*Star could tell she was lying, trying to keep Patty from worrying. The thought of anyone hurting Kid badly enough to cover the alley in blood made him feel sick.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure he's just fine," he agreed, with a false smile, for Patty's sake. "But let's hurry up and find him anyway. I still can't believe Mifune would hurt him like this, though. Patty, tell me everything you can remember about the fight, while we search for Kid."

"Wait! We need to call Lord Death and show him what we found, and he should hear Patty's story too," Tsubaki said.

"Yeah. Right. I was going to do that," Black*Star asserted, mentally kicking himself for not thinking to do so. He handed Tsubaki the broken sword but kept the skull, as he pulled out the mirror. He frowned. "It's too small to write on. We should use a window."

"No, here," Patty said, handing him a pencil.

"Pencil's can't write on mirrors, Patty," he explained without his usual vitriol for people who were stupid. Patty was different than the rest of them, more like a little kid, and he'd never do anything to make her feel bad for not being as smart as they were. Patty never rolled her eyes at him when he talked about surpassing God.

"It will. It's eyeliner. It writes on skin and eyebrows and mirrors. I write and draw all kinds of things in eyeliner and lipstick on the mirrors in my room," she explained, as she took the mirror from him and wrote, chanting as she did so. "42-42-564, whenever you want to knock on Death's door."

"Did you find him?" Lord Death demanded, without his usual amiable greeting.

"No sir, not yet. We wanted to report what we know so far," Black*Star said respectfully. "Patty, you start telling him about the fight."

"Alright," she said, and proceeded to do so.

Both Death and Spirit asked questions, gently prodding her for additional information, as they swept the mirror around the alley and showed them the broken sword and Kid's skull tie pin.

"Don't worry. I'm sure my son is still alive. He's a Reaper, after all. We're pretty tough and strong, you know," Death assured them, flexing his arms for effect, but his usual comical tone was missing.

"Right," Spirit agreed. "But kids, listen. From the amount of blood and the way it's all over, in different places, it looks like Kid got cut a number of times. Even if he's alright from the blood loss, he might be catatonic now, from the lack of symmetry. You know how he gets when anything is wrong with the way he looks, right, how even a minor flesh wound can freak him out? Without Liz and Patty, or anyone else there to ground him, he may be completely unresponsive when you find him," Spirit explained.

Patty frowned in confusion.

"He means it will be like Kid is asleep, even if his eyes are open. He won't be able to talk or even protect himself," Tsubaki clarified gently.

Patty's eyes widened at the implication.

"Don't worry, Patty, Lord Death, Spirit. We're going to rescue Kid and he's going to be fine," Black*Star assured them, careful to sound as loud and confident as usual, though for one of the first times ever, he didn't feel that way at all.

 _Don't make a liar of me, Kid. Gods don't lie, right?_

0 0 0

Every breath hurt. Kid's only comfort was the fact that he was indeed still breathing. Justin Law was a man of regrettably few words, and he had been the main opponent of this particular foe to date; Kid might have been better prepared for the savagery of Giriko's attack with adequate warning, though he wasn't supposed to have been his foe. Thankfully he hadn't lost any limbs or digits, but had he been human, he'd have been dead or so badly scarred that he would wish to be.

He forced himself to look down at the crisscrossed mess of his chest with a shudder. The jagged edged wounds were already healing, and he knew they wouldn't scar. Any scarring would have been abhorrent to him, but were he not able to fully heal from this…

But his many open wounds were not his greatest concern, or even his ribs. It was the broken fingers of his left hand that had him all but frantic. He couldn't just feel how out of alignment the bones were, he could see them, and he could feel them slowly but surely healing that way. To his humiliation, he'd actually resorted to begging his captor to allow him to set them. Even if his hand still functioned like this, to have it so hideously deformed…

He vomited again, unable to turn his head far enough to avoid his own body, because of the chains confining him. His clothes were in shreds, covered in dried blood and vomit, and now fresh bile, and he had so many healing injuries that he looked like something Dr. Stein might have stitched together were he falling down drunk and fully crazed with the madness that only danced around the edges of his mind. Kid was almost thankful his hands were still bound: otherwise he would more than likely claw his own skin off in disgust, or simply end his own life.

The selfishness of the thought sickened him. His father must be frantic with worry about him, if Patty had made it safely to the DWMA with Liz. His only solace was that at least he'd saved Patty. _Even if Liz…_ _No. I refuse to believe she might be…_

His whole body tensed as the door of the brightly lit cell he was confined in opened, casting a mocking shadow on the wall. He'd tried time and again to control the shadows here, but to no avail. He had no idea what was wrong. Was it one of the Witch's spells? Or was he just so pathetic and incompetent he no longer possessed the innate Reaper ability?

"Well, look who's awake!" Giriko said with a relish that made Kid cringe, and reflexively attempt to cower from his tormentor, to his humiliation.

Predictably, his fear made Giriko laugh.

"You're almost as entertaining as Justin Law, but sadly, a little too young for my tastes. And you don't have that ever so infuriating and appealing air of calm and complete lack of interest that drives me wild. One day soon, I'm going to make that man scream and beg, just like you did, but I'll get to play a much better game with him. I may be many things, but I'm no pedophile.

"In a few years though, I just might be visiting you again, once I've tired of Justin. He's my prize for doing all this, you know. I'm going to finally get to fuck that superior smirk right off that saintly Priest's face," Giriko claimed crassly, rubbing himself through his pants as he made his disgusting claim.

Giriko laughed again, as he approached. "Now, now, don't look so terrified. I told you, I'm not into kids. But there is a little something I need from you to stoke the fire. Sure, I decorated the alley with your blood, and left your skull pin there so those idiots from the DWMA would instantly know the blood was yours, even with the remnant of Esmeralda's Soul Protect we left in the alley to conceal the battle. The shadow's set now to lift the when someone with a powerful Soul Wavelength uses any kind of light. But the blood and skull aren't enough. We need to put the pressure on. If you're holding someone for ransom, you need the folks back at home terrified enough that they pay up quickly, right? So I need a little something to up the ante a bit," he claimed, as he activated the chainsaw in his left hand with a malicious grin

Kid strained and struggled against his chains as the twisted madman reached for his face with the viciously spinning blade.

 _Not my face, my eyes! Please not my face!_

He thought he'd kept his plea silent this time, until Giriko laughed again. "Relax, kid. I'm not going to destroy that pretty face of yours. Though it would be interesting to see if that Reaper healing power could restore your sight if I blinded you."

Terror overwhelmed Kid, and he started thrashing wildly against his chains.

"Jesus kid! Calm down! Don't piss me off. You nearly made me cut my own arm off, there. Just hold still, you little prick. Hey now. That's an idea." At the feel of a knee pressing between his legs and the sound of additional chains near his groin, Kid froze.

"Ha, I knew that would make you stop struggling. Now, unless you want to be singing soprano, you'll let me get what I came for," Giriko urged.

Kid was shaking wildly, but otherwise not moving, as rough fingers grabbed a fistful of his hair. There was the sound of a chainsaw over the left side of his head, and the brief agony of pulling hair.

"Huh. What a mess. Guess I should have used scissors, but you can still see those distinctive stripes, which is what I needed. You're lucky. At least the hair will grow back. Next time, I might take an ear or a finger or something worse," Giriko taunted as he backed away.

Kid stared, trembling, at the clump of hair clenched tightly in the man's hand, the ragged edges of the hated stripes vivid, the familiar gentle weight of his long bangs gone from the left side of his face. "My f…father is going to k…kill you, and S…Spirit is going to g…gorge himself on your s…soul, you s…sick b…bastard," Kid threatened, forcing the words through his chattering teeth.

Giriko laughed again, long and wildly. "Hurry up and grow up, kid. I can't wait to teach that mouth of yours some manners. Someone's got to teach you to suck, not bark and bite, right?" And then he was lunging forward, and Kid was cowering away, terrified his foolish, pointless, arrogant threat was going to cost more than he could afford to pay.

But then there was more raucous laughter, and the sound of receding footsteps, and Kid sagged in the chains, no longer able to keep himself upright. He began to shake with silent sobs that soon became loud ones, as the terror, pain and humiliation of all he had endured threatened to drown him.

Minutes or perhaps even hours later, trapped in his timeless hell of misery, Kid froze again, as a new sound invaded the cold, silent stone of his cell. A grinding, grating sound, stone against stone, but then suddenly, unnaturally muffled.

Kid looked around with bleary eyes crusted with the salt from his tears. His eyes widened as one of the stone blocks in the back of the cell visibly moved, somehow sliding silently outwards, centimeter by centimeter. Kid watched its progress spellbound until, just when it looked like it could go no further without crashing to the floor, it somehow pushed free, levitated over the floor and then sunk gently down, as if by magic.

 _Magic? Magic! A Witch!_ Kid pulled frantically against his chains again as a sandy blond head appeared.

"Hey kid, calm down, OK? I'm here to rescue you," a gentle voice said.

Kid stopped struggling, and watched warily. To his knowledge, all Witches were female. _Could he be a Warlock?_

The head ducked back and a pair of hands appeared, then arms, head and shoulder, narrow waist, hips and long legs, as the slender yet muscular man emerged from within the wall. He appeared unarmed, but Kid was certain he couldn't be.

"Who are you?" Kid asked warily.

"I think it's better you don't know for now. All you need to know is I won't hurt you, and we're going to get you out of here," the stranger said.

"We? Who else is with you? And why should I trust you?" Kid demanded.

"That's good to hear. So that sick bastard didn't totally break you after all. Because looking at you a minute ago, I wasn't sure how much he'd left," the man said, his voice sympathetic and concerned rather than taunting or pitying.

Kid's eyes widened and then he swallowed convulsively, as he thought how horrible, how hideous he must look, with his bloody clothes in rags around him, his skin shredded, his hair hacked away. _Garbage, I'm asymmetrical, worthless, useless garbage._

"Crap. Sorry, kid. I know I need to be careful what I say to you, but I forgot for a moment. I was just really glad I found you. We weren't sure we'd be able to. Divination magic isn't one of her specialties, and divinations never work on yourself, and your future is tied pretty closely to mine, and mine to hers, and this place is warded pretty strongly so…" He trailed off awkwardly.

Kid narrowed his eyes and clenched his hands into fists, more to keep his trembling from showing than in defiance. _What's wrong with me? I can't stop shaking._

The stranger sighed. "Look, I'll explain everything to you once we're safely away from here, I promise. But if we don't leave right now, we might never get out of here alive. I'm going to remove your chains. Just don't attack me, alright? I may not look it, but I'm nearly as banged up as you are, on the inside at least, and I really don't want us to die today, not after everything we're risking to prevent that from happening," the man said mysteriously.

"Alright. I'll follow you, for now," Kid acquiesced, not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He doubted he could find himself in a worse situation than the one he was in. Trading one Witch for another didn't seem to matter much, and so far the stranger was acting far kinder than Giriko. Kid doubted he could be more of a sadist, even if he was hiding his true nature. And at least the chains would be off.

"Can you make it through the opening on your own, especially with your hand like that?" the stranger asked, as he worked some sort of lockpick in each of the keyholes of the fetters, removing them one by one.

Thoughts of his hideously deformed hand made him want to vomit again, but Kid forced himself not to look or think about it too hard. "I can manage," he said with a confidence he didn't feel, flexing the fingers of his right hand to restore circulation. It would be better not to feel his left, if he could help it.

"Enter hands first, the same way I came out. You won't be able to turn for the first few hundred meters. You're not claustrophobic, are you? From the information we have, that's not one of your areas of difficulty," the stranger said tactfully.

"No, I'm not," Kid agreed, not liking the fact that the stranger apparently knew far more than he would like about him.

"You'll need to crawl, or slither using your good hand, hips, knees and toes, but you're smaller than I am, so you should have an easier time of it than I did, except for your injuries," the man commented.

Kid nodded and got down onto his stomach, and worked his way into the hole. To his surprise, he saw a bright light ahead, but in the distance. "There's a light," he said cautiously.

"That's my mistress. Once you reach the light, you'll be outside the building," the man claimed reassuringly.

Hoping he wasn't going from the frying pan into the fire, Kid began to worm his way into the passage.

He moved as quickly as he could, but realized he was moving with agonizing slowness, as he fought not to pass out, as his wounds scraped along the unforgiving stone, reopening a number of them, trying to keep his weight off his ribs.

"You're doing a great job, kid. You're almost there," the man whispered.

Somehow the simple words of praise and encouragement rejuvenated him, and he redoubled his efforts. The man behind him and the partner in front of him were risking their lives to save him. They deserved the best effort he could give them.

"Hurry. I think they're coming," what sounded to be a small child's voice called anxiously.

Kid forced himself to speed forward to the light. He dragged and clambered his way out of the hole, and then stood, swaying. He would have toppled, if the stranger didn't wrap his arm around him. The unfamiliar touch made him stiffen, and the terror of the past hours made him shake. Then he realized in wide eyed horror that the little girl was wearing Witch's clothes, although he couldn't see her soul, for some reason.

 _This must be the Witch Angela, the one we were hunting. Which means the man must be her bodyguard, Mifune. Father sent us after them because they murdered dozens of innocent people._

He really did jump from the frying pan into the fire. He stumbled back from her, into the man who was supporting him.

"I'm sorry," the man apologized confusingly, sounding sincere.

 _Why is he apolo…_

Sudden and unexpected blackness flooded Kid's mind, as pain and thought ceased.


	3. Chapter 3 - Missing: Will We Find Kid?

**These characters are under copyright by** **Atsushi Ōkubo, Squar Enix, Yen Press, Shōnen,** **  
Akatsuki Yamatoya.** **Madman Entertainment, Manga Entertainment, Funimation,** **and/or others. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.**

 **A/N:  
I privately respond to all reviews, oftentimes with all kinds of neat little tidbits, so don't be shy, leave a review! Thanks again to those of you who already have, and for all the favorites and follows too! They're an author's bread and butter! Literally, because it's not like anyone's paying us to write… :)**

Chapter 3 – Missing: Will We Find Kid in Time?

"He can't have just vanished into thin air," Soul complained in frustration.

He and Maka had rendezvoused in the city Kid had disappeared from, with Black*Star and Tsubaki, and nearly every other Academy student and teacher, both Meisters and Weapons. The plan had been to gather together all the Meisters with Soul Detect, to search for Kid's Soul Wavelength. If that didn't work, they were supposed to spread out in a spiral from the alley, searching until they found him.

Maka's ankle was taped and she was on crutches, but she'd refused to be left behind. Only her father had been, since Stein was still operating on Liz and couldn't wield Spirit, though Soul suspected it was also to help keep Lord Death calm. He only hoped Spirit would be safe from Lord Death. He'd never realized Lord Death could be terrifying, that he might attack any Scythe, but especially Spirit.

They'd left the alley hours ago, traveling with Black*Star and Tsubaki, and Patty, and so far, had come up with nothing.

"I feel something!" Maka cried excitedly. She bit her lip. "It's faint, a trace presence, but… no, it's stronger than that. More like the feeling from Kid's blood in the alley, once we flooded it with light and dispelled that thin veil of unnatural shadow. But more substantial, more solid, strong, but also weak, somehow. Almost like…" She swallowed, hard. "Like a piece of him," she whispered, suddenly paling.

"What do you mean a piece?" Patty squeaked, looking horrified.

"Where?" Soul demanded.

"This way," Maka replied, more fearful than eager, now.

"Shouldn't we inform Lord Death?" Tsubaki asked.

"Not until we know what we've found," Black*Star replied grimly, exchanging a look with Soul, and he nodded in agreement. Not after what he'd seen. There was no telling how Lord Death might react.

0 0 0

"We're getting closer," Maka said confidently, as they turned right, onto a new block.

"There. It's the church! It's coming from the church!" Maka cried, excited in spite of the ominous, odd feeling.

"We need to be ready," Black*Star said, and Tsubaki changed to her weapon form.

Soul changed too, and Maka held him at the ready.

Maka and Black*Star approached, Black*Star for once actually being stealthy, Patty following.

Maka tried to peek in through the windows, but they were all stained glass and impossible to see through. Biting her lip, she indicated the door, signaling that she'd yank it open, Black*Star would run in, and then she'd follow.

They burst through the door, as planned, and quickly scanned the room.

 _Nothing._ Maka used Soul Detect, and followed the faint tug to the front of the church, past row upon row of empty waxed and polished wooden pews, towards the altar.

The altar! There was an ornate silver chalice and a matching silver plate that made her stomach clench, for some reason, as she came nearer. Maka reached the altar and looked down, frowning in confusion, but then her eyes widened in shock as she stared at the black and white mass on the plate. "Oh Lord Death. It's… it's Kid's hair. His stripes," she whispered in horror.

Soul and Tsubaki both returned to human form. Patty was staring riveted at the sick offering.

"His lines of Sanzu. That's why the feeling of his Soul Wavelength was both weak and strong," Tsubaki said, sounding as shocked as Maka.

Maka swallowed. "That's not all. Not enough for what I'm feeling." Dreading what she'd find, she peeked into the cup, and paled. "Blood. It's… it's Kid's blood."

"There's something under the hair," Black*Star said, reaching out, hesitating, and then lifting the tangled clump of hair as gently as if it was a newborn kitten.

Patty reached out and took the hair from him, eerily quiet and subdued, clenching it tightly in her hand, as tears streamed down her face.

"It's a note," Soul said, lifting it, his face darkening in fury as he read what was written silently to himself. Then he read it aloud.

" _Unless you want me to send you the rest of the brat a piece at a time, send Justin Law to St. Mathew's Cathedral, alone, at 6 PM tonight, to negotiate the ransom terms for his release."_

"That's only a little over an hour from now! We need to contact Justin right away. We can't risk missing that deadline," Soul stated grimly.

Maka frowned in confusion. "Justin? Why Justin? Black*Star and Tsubaki have fought Mifune twice now. I don't think Justin ever has. How does he even know about Justin?"

Tsubaki's eyes widened. "Because Mifune isn't the one who wrote this! He wouldn't call Kid 'brat', he'd call him 'kid', like he called Black*Star. And he definitely isn't the one who cut Kid's hair. He would have used his sword, and it's razor sharp. It would have been a single, precise cut, not hacked and jagged like this."

"So he's working with whoever wrote this, someone who knows Justin, with a bladed weapon that makes jagged… Giriko!" Maka cried in sudden certainty and horror.

Soul scowled. "Yeah. That freak is twisted enough to leave something like this, and he has a real hard on for Justin. He really gets off on fighting him," he agreed in disgust.

"But why would Mifune be working with…? Angela! Do you think Giriko is helping him protect Angela from the Academy? Mifune would do anything to protect Angela," Black*Star agreed.

"But why did Mifune kill all those people in the first place? Why such a blatant attack that's guaranteed to make us come after him, to target him and Angela? How is that protecting her?" Tsubaki asked. "And we met Angela. She's not like other Witches. She's just a little girl. She'd protect Mifune with her life, but she'd never hurt anyone, or she would have attacked us when we were sent after them, when we nearly killed Mifune, because he wouldn't use his full skill against Black*Star."

"It doesn't matter if it makes sense or not. Why are you trying to make them sound like they're the good guys? We know Mifune attacked Kid and Liz and Patty. They fought him. Patty was there. She saw him," Soul snapped.

Patty looked startled. "I didn't see him."

"What do you mean you didn't see him? You fought him. He hurt Liz," Maka huffed. She was normally patient with Patty, they all were, but dealing with her could be trying on the best of days, and this was far from the best of days.

Patty frowned, her brow scrunching. "All we saw was shadow and his swords. Kid was upset because the shadows wouldn't listen to him, they wouldn't move for him like they're supposed to."

"But they were Mifune's swords, right? I mean, we found that broken katana. So it was Mifune," Soul said impatiently.

"Why did he leave it behind? Even if they were after Mifune, even if he couldn't reforge it, why leave such blatant evidence that he was the one to attack them? Would he really not have noticed he was missing a sword?" Tsubaki asked, her suspicions matching Maka's.

"What if it wasn't Mifune who ambushed Kid in that alley? What if it was someone trying to make us think it was Mifune?" Maka asked, and then her eyes widened as the full revelation dawned on her.

"Oh Lord Death! What if it wasn't Mifune before, either? What if someone was framing Mifune and Angela, so the Academy would send someone after them? Someone who wanted to hurt Lord Death and the Academy, by killing Meisters and Weapons," Maka asked, horrified. "And Lord Death gave them the perfect victim, because he didn't think Black*Star and Tsubaki would complete the mission."

"Wait. You mean Mifune and Angela didn't really kill all those people? That it was just the bait in some sort of trap to catch me and Tsubaki, but they caught Kid and Liz and Patty instead?" Black*Star asked, incredulous and infuriated.

"I don't think they were after the two of you specifically. Any Meister and Weapon would do. Although it sounds like maybe they hoped Lord Death would send Justin Law. If he hadn't already been on a mission, Lord Death might have. But instead, he sent his son. The perfect bargaining chip for the real perpetrators to get what they want. And we've just read that Giriko wants Justin," Maka reasoned.

"There's still something that doesn't make sense to me. Patty, what do you mean the shadows wouldn't listen to him?" Tsubaki asked gently.

"Usually Kid uses shadow as a weapon. Controlling shadows is part of his Reaper ability. But they wouldn't obey him. He couldn't make them move. Liz thought it was because of Witch Angela, but she was surprised she was that powerful," Patty replied.

"See? It had to be Mifune. Only a Witch could do something like that," Soul argued.

"No. It had to be a Witch. But what if it was a different Witch? What if Giriko is working with another Witch, now that Arachne is dead?" Maka hazarded.

"We have to call Lord Death with what we found. He'll make sure Justin knows what we think we've figured out, what he's getting into. He'll be able to make the best plan to get Kid back safely," Tsubaki insisted.

"Can we ask about Liz?" Patty said, clutching Kid's hair tightly in her fist, which was pressed against her chest by her other hand.

"Of course," Maka said gently, patting her reassuringly on the shoulder. _I only hope there's good news._


	4. Chapter 4 - Unlikely Saviors: Is She?

**These characters are under copyright by** **Atsushi Ōkubo, Squar Enix, Yen Press, Shōnen,** **  
Akatsuki Yamatoya.** **Madman Entertainment, Manga Entertainment, Funimation,** **and/or others. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.**

Chapter 4 – Unlikely Saviors: Is She Really a Witch?

Kid awoke abruptly, dragged from dreamless sleep by a wave of pain. His eyes snapped open to an unfamiliar but aesthetically pleasing ceiling, made of interlocking tiles in an intricate geometric pattern. He lay admiring the perfect symmetry for a few blissful moments before the sharp bite of the pain yanked him from his serene contemplation.

He raised his left hand to his face, trying to figure out why it hurt so terribly and was shocked by the heaviness, until he saw the cast encasing his arm from his elbow to his fingertips. _Why is…?_

Memory flared, sharp and bright and he bolted upright, his heart hammering, gasping at the pain in his side as his tortured muscles and ribs protested. He'd exchanged one prison cell for another, one cruel keeper for a deceptive one. He remembered the soft apology, and then blackness. But… he wasn't chained, or bound in any way. The room, though Spartan, was not bare like the cell.

Kid realized he was lying on a thin sheet covered futon pad on a frame close to the ground. There was a nightstand to either side of the bed, with identical rectangular paper lamps, of Japanese design, and a bamboo chest at the foot of the bed. A writing desk was centered against the opposite wall, a single wooden chair with four slats on the back bisecting it perfectly, with three desk drawers visible on either side of it. There were two doors, directly opposite from one another, and no windows.

He let out a heavy sigh of contentment, and his hammering heart began to calm, the debilitating panic attack averted. _Symmetrical. Everything in the room is perfectly symmetrical._

Kid frowned, looking from his left hand to his right. _Everything except me._ He swung his legs over the bed and rose, and was surprised to see he was wearing an unfamiliar pair of silk pajamas, black, with white trim, the additional white of bandages peeking out from underneath. Someone had tended to his injuries and replaced his ruined clothes.

But there would be nothing they could do about his horrid hair. His right hand automatically went to the butchered mass and his fingers froze when he touched short, smooth softness, instead of the torn and knotted remnants he expected to find. _A mirror. I have to find a mirror._

He stood on the bare wooden floor and padded over to the door on the right and opened it. A bathroom, just as he'd hoped. He frowned when he saw the single roll of toilet paper, but his sudden tension eased as he realized the paper was folded to a perfect triangular point.

Kid looked around the small bathroom and discovered two immaculate white hand towels on the towel bar, both exactly folded, hanging at precisely the same length. He turned to inspect the rest of the room and froze as he saw the mirror, staring at his reflection.

He was not nearly as hideous as he had feared. His injuries were all concealed by bandages and the pajamas, and his hair… Someone had done a remarkably efficient job of cutting it as he slept, evening out the mess it must have been. It was neatly trimmed all over, a good four centimeters shorter than before, but uniform once again, save for the white on black remnants of the hated stripes. He looked younger, with it so short, but he didn't mind. At least he could look in the mirror without wanting to vomit or smash it.

 _The mirror!_

He wasn't at all sure he could communicate with his father merely using his Soul Wavelength, the shape he was in, but he could definitely do so with the mirror. He breathed onto the flawlessly clear glass, fogging it, and wrote with his finger, 42-42-564 and waited eagerly for the connection, frowning when the mirror's surface never wavered.

"That's not right. Is something blocking the transmission?"

He tried again, to no avail. Focusing his Soul Wavelength produced the same lack of result, but also made him nearly faint. It shouldn't have weakened him that much. Something was definitely affecting soul communications in the room. Scowling, he headed back out into the bedroom and then for the other door.

He expected to find it locked, and was both surprised and suspicious to find it opened easily, and that there was no guard on the other side, though it led to an open hallway, to the right. To the left was a wall. He frowned at the asymmetry and resolutely turned and padded down the hall. He abruptly froze when he heard a soft murmur of voices.

 _Should I go towards the voices, or back into the room?_

"Oh! He's awake! He's in the hall!" the same child's voice from earlier said happily.

His heart rate skyrocketed.

"It's alright, kid. You can come out. I told you, we're not going to harm you," the gentle voiced stranger assured him, but Kid knew better than to trust the man. This was his target, Mifune, and he'd knocked him out, as soon as he escaped.

"We're not your enemy, kid. Someone set us up, to make it look like Angela was the one to kill all those people. Angela is a Witch, but she's a good Witch. She'd never harm anyone," the man assured him.

 _Why aren't they charging into the hall and attacking me? Why did they leave me free to escape in the first place? Could they be telling the truth? Even if they're just trying to trick me, I have to move forward, to find a way out._

He took a deep breath and set an authoritative scowl on his face, as he strode forward. He found himself in a living room that immediately grated on his nerves. The room was tidy, but completely asymmetrical, with a reclining chair angled off a futon, and a huge tatami mat covering a good portion of the floor. The man he knew must be Mifune rose politely from the futon, and a tiny girl dressed in a Witch's hat and robe rose from the chair.

"Welcome to our home, Death the Kid," the little girl said politely. "My name is Angela Leon, and this is my guardian Mifune."

Kid stiffened as the Witch confirmed their identities.

Mifune quickly moved in front of Angela, though he made no other threatening moves, and drew no weapon, though he was armed. "I can't allow you to harm Angela. And you don't really have any reason to, other than the fact she is, by birth, a Witch. Angela has never harmed anyone, and will never harm anyone. Her magic consists of protective wards and spells and healing magic. She's no threat to humans or the DWMA. And we did just save your life, and tend to your injuries, after all."

"Mifune, it's alright. I'm certain such a pretty and gentle looking boy with such kind eyes would never harm me," Angela assured her bodyguard.

"I… you think I'm pretty?" Kid asked in shock. _No one's ever called me that before. How can they, when I'm such a freak, when I have these hideous stripes on only half my head?_

" _I think your stripes are cute,"_ his father's voice echoed in his mind.

 _You have to say that, because you're my father. But she… they're trying to get in my good graces, to influence me and you through me, Father._ Kid's eyes narrowed in suspicion and he tensed.

Angela suddenly looked sad. "You don't want to be my friend, do you? You hate me just because I'm a Witch, even though I've never done anything bad or wrong. Why are you so cold and hateful and bigoted?"

Kid froze. "You think I'm cold and hateful and bigoted?" _Why would she say that, if she's trying to flatter me into helping them?_

"Angela's still a child. She hasn't learned how to lie to get her way," Mifune said, as if he could hear his thoughts. "I hope she never learns. That's what I like about children. They're innocent of the ways of deceit that adults without honor thrive in."

"And are you deceitful?" Kid challenged.

"Mifune is the most kind and wonderful and honest man I've ever met!" Angela defended staunchly and indignantly, with a scowl that looked adorable, rather than fierce.

"He knocked me unconscious, after tricking me into thinking I'd escaped," Kid challenged.

Angela looked shocked. "But he didn't make you sleep! I did. He just apologized for me, because he knew I had to do it. We needed to get away quickly, and you wouldn't have let Mifune carry you, or would have either fought him or maybe tried to help him fight. Besides, we needed to treat your wounds, and I didn't want to cause you pain. Especially because I already knew we needed to re-break the bones in your hand, before we could set them so they would heal properly," she said, her voice sweet and innocent sounding, and her eyes welling with tears as she indicated his cast.

He frowned. "You set the bones?"

"Why of course! It never would heal properly otherwise. Although Mifune did that part, but only because when I tried, it made me cry, even though I knew I had to hurt you in order to help you," she explained, wiping at her eyes and smiling up at him.

"You were very brave. And after everything you did to tend to me, you shouldn't have to do anything like that again," Mifune soothed.

He looked up at Kid. "The reason Giriko tried to set you up to go after me and Angela was because we've been too hard for him and the Witch Esmeralda to catch on their own. Esmeralda is Angela's aunt, but she's nothing like her sister was, or her niece. She murdered the Witch Umbra, Angela's mother.

"If it wasn't for my friend Michiko's divination, I'd have been killed three weeks ago, and Angela would be their prisoner, or dead, as soon as they got what they're after. I still might die, though we're trying to change what she saw. Not for my sake, but for Angela's.

"Who will protect her, if I'm gone? I can't allow them to take Angela. And if I was their prisoner instead, they'd force her to do something terrible, or if I'm dead, hurt her until she obeyed."

"The DWMA…" Kid began.

"The DWMA hunts Witches, they don't protect them. You're our greatest enemy, though we wish it was otherwise," Mifune said with a sigh.

"So then I _am_ your prisoner," Kid said in somewhat twisted satisfaction.

Mifune scowled. "Of course not. You're free to leave at any time. But the moment you leave the protection of Angela's wards, your soul will be visible again, and that maniac Giriko and that murderous Witch Esmeralda will come after you again. Originally you might have been nothing more than bait for their trap, but now that you've escaped, they'll hunt you down without mercy. Not that they showed you mercy before, but now it's personal.

"You damaged their egos. After the way they all but obliterated yours, I'm glad we were able to strike a blow against them. It was some small retaliation for what they did to you. I don't normally believe in vengeance, from what I've seen, it only leads to more sorrow, but you're still a kid. Besides, Esmeralda murdered her own sister, in order to gain her power. She needs to be stopped."

Kid wanted to argue that his ego wasn't badly damaged at all by his captivity, but he knew it was a lie. He'd been reduced to a cowering, sobbing, trembling, pathetic weakling.

He jumped as a tiny hand clutched his right hand. "Why are you so hard on yourself?" Angela asked, as if she could hear his disparaging thoughts. They must have been written all over his face. "Why can't you see how wonderful you are?"

 _That's something Maka or my father would say. But it isn't true. I'm asymmetrical garbage, my hair, even my hand now._ He held up the cast and glared at it, and then began clawing at it with his right hand, trying to rip the plaster off.

"Hey! Stop that!" Mifune ordered. "Angela and I went through a lot to re-break your bones so we could set your fingers so they would heal right. She cried her eyes out, over you, even though she knew we were helping you. Don't you dare make her go through that again.

"We can put a cast on your other hand, if you want us to. We almost did before, but then you'd be all but helpless, unable to even hold a fork or chopsticks to feed yourself. We made sure your bedroom was completely symmetrical, so it wouldn't upset you, but there's only so much we can do, kid," Mifune chastised.

Kid felt terrible as he saw Angela's eyes were welling with tears again, and he heard the compassion and frustration in Mifune's voice.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize you did all that for me. I noticed the room, of course, but I thought it was just always that way and… I should have realized no one else would have a room like that, a house like that. I'm sorry I'm so pathetic, that I'm such a burden to you," Kid said meekly, cowed and humiliated, bowing his head in shame.

Mifune sighed. "Stop that, kid. You just have a few little personality quirks and foibles, that's all. Everyone does, to one extent or another, pet peeves, things that bug them, you know? I knew a guy once that couldn't stand it when his coffee mug handles weren't all turned to the right in the cupboard, all pointing in one direction. And another guy who organized all his books by color instead of by author, in rainbow order, red to purple, and the clothes in his closet that way too. Other people knock on wood or step over cracks. There are all kinds of things that to others seem like nonsensical habits.

"Me, I sharpen my swords, whenever I'm feeling anxious, no matter how perfect the edges already are. It calms me, makes me feel as prepared as possible, but the sound drives some people crazy. I find it soothing, reassuring. I live in a world full of guns that can kill me from dozens of meters away, but I rely on weapons invented thousands of years ago and hundreds of years obsolete," he said with a slight smile and a shake of his head at his own folly.

"Swords have elegance and honor and beauty. Very few guns can claim that distinction," Kid argued. "Mine do, though," he added softly, and closed his eyes. _Liz. Please be alright._

"Hey, are you alright? You're not going to pass out, are you?" Mifune asked in concern. "You should eat something. Your body needs food and rest to heal. I've made some ramen. Soup is always good, when you're injured, easy to chew."

Kid shook his head. "I can't eat soup, only puree. I can't stand the randomness of noodles or chunks of vegetables in a puddle of liquid," he said with a shudder.

"It sounds to me like you never saw a proper bowl of ramen before. True ramen is an art form, kid, like a rock garden, raked and arranged to perfection. Why don't you let me make you a bowl, and then we'll see, alright?"

"I don't like wasting food," Kid cautioned.

"Trust me. You'll want to eat what I prepare," Mifune assured him. "Come on. We'll eat in the dining room, even though it's just the three of us. The only thing in that room is a low table and four cushions to sit on, centered in the room. We usually eat in the kitchen, but you probably wouldn't be able to relax enough in there."

"There are only three of us," Kid said anxiously. "At home, we have two dining rooms, one with an equilateral triangle table, for when I eat with just Liz and Patty, and one with a square, when my father eats with us."

His eyes started moving from Mifune to Angela to the asymmetrical living room around him, and then to the cast on his hand; he could feel the tension building.

"Breathe, kid. Calm down. Angela, why don't you get your markers and draw on his cast?" Mifune suggested.

Kid recoiled in horror, at the thought of a childish drawing and he began shaking, his breath coming in rapid gasps, pain knifing through him from his healing ribs, as his fragile control, which was already slipping, began to disintegrate more rapidly.

Angela ran to the edge of the large tatami mat and began tugging on it.

"Angela, don't!" Mifune warned.

"Help me move it! He has to see how well I can draw, how pretty it will look!" she insisted, tugging at the bulky mat, sliding one edge of it across the smooth wooden floor, revealing an arc surrounding strange symbols.

"Alright, stand back, I'll do it. It's too late to keep it concealed now anyway," Mifune said with a sigh. He grabbed one end of the mat and began rolling it up, revealing an amazingly detailed design painted onto the floor in pumpkin orange. It was a multifaceted, spiked circle, perfectly round, with dozens of runes scripted within the boundary of the edges, every detail exquisite, and wonderfully, astonishingly symmetrical.

Kid fell to his knees in front of it, in awe. It was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. He drank in every detail, his eyes glancing everywhere, looking for some fatal flaw to reveal itself, to destroy the perfection of it, but there was nothing wrong.

"It's a ward: Soul Protect. It's an extremely powerful version, not like the usual ones where you can still see a soul, but just not know if it's a Witch or Kishin Egg or Weapon or Meister or Reaper or regular human. It makes the whole house invisible to anyone using Detection spells or even Soul Projection. It completely conceals us. You wouldn't even be able to use your Soul Wavelength or a mirror to call anyone, unless you damaged the circle," Angela said proudly and innocently.

Kid saw Mifune wince, as she betrayed the way to sabotage it.

"Don't mess up this circle, kid. After Esmeralda and Giriko destroyed Angela's castle, nearly killed me and almost snatched Angela, it took us days to find a safe place far enough away from them that we could hide, while I healed. It took Angela nearly a week to get this circle right, because it's so detailed, and she had to pour a lot of her magic into it to charge and activate it, after she'd already drained herself dangerously healing the worst of my injuries, so I'd survive.

"When I was finally able to crawl out of bed, worried because I hadn't seen her for days, when I knew she'd been so worried about me, I found her unconscious next to the circle, and completely dehydrated. I could see every rib. That was over a week ago, and she's still not fully recovered. I don't want to hurt you, but I can't let you damage it," Mifune threatened.

"Damage it?" Kid asked, appalled. "How could anyone even think to mar such perfection, such beauty, such wonderful symmetry?" Kid asked, his voice worshipful.

Mifune exhaled in relief. "Good. Alright then. This is the kind of thing Angela draws, what she wants to draw on your cast, so that even though you only have one, the one you have will be so pretty you won't be upset by it. She can draw wards without charging them – it won't do anything, unless she wants it to – but it will make you happier, even without putting her magic into it, just because it's so pretty. It's up to you if you let her draw it or not. You can even come up with your own design, if you want, so you're sure we're not trying to trick you to put some kind of bad magic onto you without you knowing what it is."

Kid's eyes widened. He hadn't even thought of that possibility, and he should have. Mifune was right, he should just design something himself for her to draw, but this was so perfect, so wonderful…

"Angela, would you please draw a ward on my cast? Anything you like, as long as it's perfectly symmetrical. But could you please draw it in black? Because the cast is white and my clothes – I mean, the pajamas you lent me – are black and white, and I always wear black and white. It doesn't have to be orange, does it?" Kid asked hopefully.

"No, but orange is my favorite color. It was my mother's color. All her magic was orange. Orange makes me think of her," Angela said, her voice sincere, but also sad and wistful.

"Oh. I understand. But… my father, Lord Death, is black and white. I never thought about it before, but that's probably why those are my two favorite colors, why I like them so much, because they remind me of my father," Kid said thoughtfully.

"Oh! Then of course, I'll make it black!" Angela said happily, and ran out of the room, apparently to get a marker.

"Thank you, for speaking so gently to her, and explaining, instead of ordering. She's used to people demanding she do things she doesn't want to do, and she can be pretty stubborn because of it. Or worse, she gets upset, and seeing that… I don't understand how other people can make children cry. I feel like my heart is going to stop, any time I see her sad," Mifune admitted.

"She's a very sweet gir…" Kid stopped mid word in shock. A girl. She was a Witch, but also just a little girl. And he'd been sent to _kill_ her. Suddenly he felt sick. _Were any of the other Witches we killed like her? Innocent?_

"Good. I see it's made you think, at least. I don't know if your father will understand, but at least you do, now. Witches aren't evil, just because their parents were Witches, because they were born with the ability to do magic, any more than a Weapon has to become a Kishin Egg, or a human born to Mafia parents has to become a murderer.

"Evil isn't innate, it's learned, taught. Or sometimes embraced, no matter how good your parents were, how happy your life was. Just remember that, alright? Because you know too much about Angela and her magic, now. Everything you know would make it easier for you or your father or Black*Star or one of the other Meisters to kill us. And I don't want Angela to die," Mifune said simply.

Angela came running back into the room, a black marker clutched tightly in her hand. "I'm ready! I know just what to draw!" she said happily. "You have to promise not to move though. If you move, I'll mess up," she said intently.

"I won't move. I promise," Kid said.

"Lunch first, alright? It won't take long to eat, and you'll be drawing for hours, right?" Mifune asked.

"OK. Lunch first. Ramen, yea!" Angela squealed excitedly.

"It's usually my job, but you can help set the table," Angela said happily to Kid, as if it was a generous offer.

Kid smiled, he couldn't help himself. "Alright. Thank you."

They went into the kitchen and Kid froze. It was clean, but nowhere near symmetrical.

"Why don't you hand him the chopsticks, spoons, napkins and glasses, and let him set those out, while you get the pitcher of water?" Mifune suggested.

Kid was grateful to him again, for his understanding and compassion. After being pointed to the dining room, he set out the three place settings, putting a napkin on each side of each place, with a single chopstick on each, with the glass centered above where the bowl would go and the spoon centered at the top above it, vertically, instead of horizontally, though it would be awkward to reach. He hoped they wouldn't mind.

When Angela brought the water pitcher she looked at the table in surprise. "I never thought of doing it like that before! It's very unusual, but organized!" she said approvingly.

Kid felt absurdly pleased and relieved. "Would it be alright if I pour the water for everyone? I think I've made it too hard for you to reach the glasses," he said diplomatically. "Although you can move yours closer to your chair," he offered generously.

"OK!" she agreed.

Mifune came in with a large circular tray, with three bowls of ramen arranged in a triangle in the center. Kid's eyes widened in surprise. The eggs, meat, bean sprouts and vegetables were artfully arranged on the curving swirl of noodles not only in his own bowl, but in all of theirs.

"It's almost too pretty to eat," Angela said approvingly.

Kid had to agree, but he was famished. He hadn't thought he'd have an appetite, after what had happened, but he felt more calm and at ease than he could have imagined, away from his own home, which was particularly astonishing, because meals away from home were usually so stressful he found it impossible to eat at all. The sole exception had been the dinner parties at Soul's and Maka's house.

"Thank you for the food. For everything," Kid said earnestly.

"It's our pleasure," Mifune replied, obviously pleased he approved.

Kid ate with his usual slow care, but keeping his left hand below the table, so the sight of it wouldn't upset him, until the asymmetry of it not being visible at all proved worse than looking at the cast. He was able to finish most of the bowl, before he asked to be excused, the cast, the three of them at the table, and the uneven remains in his bowl finally proving too much for him. He needed to retreat to his room.

"Go ahead. Once Angela is finished, she can draw the ward for you, while I do the dishes. And afterwards, we'll figure out a way to safely get a message to the DWMA to let them know you're alright, and to figure out a way to get you to them without endangering either you or Angela," Mifune offered.

Kid bit his lip. "I've been thinking about that. I think the safest thing is for both of you to come with me. You need the DWMA to protect you. You and Angela will both be safe there. I'm going to offer you my personal protection."

Mifune shook his head. "I wish we could do that, but your father would never allow it. In the 900 years he's been a Reaper, he's never once sheltered a Witch. And he'd probably think we cast a spell on you or something. We can't risk Angela like that."

"Once I contact him, I can convince him, I'm sure I can," Kid assured him.

"We'll see. If I think it's safe, then we'll take you up on the offer," Mifune hedged. "When I fought Black*Star and Tsubaki, they told me I'd make an excellent teacher. I've never worked in a school before, but I think that's the most wonderful dream I could ever imagine, to be surrounded by children, teaching, nurturing and protecting them.

"Even better. Then we're agreed. I'll convince my father, and you come to the Academy to teach, and Angela can become a student. Maybe we'll start a new magic class, so we can all learn more about Witches and magic, so we understand one another better," Kid suggested enthusiastically.

"You mean I could go to school?" Angela asked, eyes wide and shining with hope.

"I promise I'll do everything I can to see that you get that chance," Kid swore.

Angela squealed in delight and ran to him and hugged him.

Kid froze, unused to such exuberant displays of affection. Few people ever touched him, knowing how unsettling that was for him, but he found to his surprise that he didn't mind her touch at all. He patted the back of her head awkwardly, the soft hair just below the rim of her Witch's hat.

Then Angela pulled back. "Great! Now it's time to draw!" Angela said eagerly.

For the second time, Kid found himself smiling at the little Witch.


	5. Chapter 5 - Kid and Angela: Under?

**These characters are under copyright by** **Atsushi Ōkubo, Squar Enix, Yen Press, Shōnen,** **  
Akatsuki Yamatoya.** **Madman Entertainment, Manga Entertainment, Funimation,** **and/or others. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.**

Chapter 5 – Kid and Angela: Under the Witch's Spell?

Kid was riveted in fascination as Angela slowly drew the complex ward on his cast, with precise, certain strokes of her marker. He was careful to remain perfectly still, so he wouldn't distort the perfection of every line and curve. Every now and then his gaze would flick from the design to her face. She looked so fiercely intent as she worked, every now and then her little pink tongue sticking out between her lips in intense concentration. _She looks adorable._

The thought startled him. _Have I ever thought of anyone as adorable before?_ He frowned in concentration. _Liz and Patty, Maka and Tsubaki are all pretty, but not adorable. Crona looks lost and tragic. But Angela… she's a Witch, but she doesn't look or feel evil at all. She's too… cute. Too sweet. Too friendly. Sad too, though, and worried. Because of the DWMA._ For the first time, Kid felt ashamed of his mission, his heritage. Of the school. Of his father.

"You don't like it?" Angela asked, the dismay in her voice heartbreaking.

Kid started, his focus brought abruptly back to the design and then her face, and he was alarmed to see tears of disappointment welling in her eyes. "No, of course I like it!" he quickly and honestly assured her. "It's perfection, even now, before it's finished. It's still in perfect balance. I was afraid you'd draw a section at a time, but you aren't. You drew the circle first and keep filling it in symbol by symbol, line by line, curve by curve, adding more and more detail as you work, but in perfect balance. It's flawless. It's amazing. You're amazing. To be so talented, when you're still so young. When you've probably had no one to teach you, once… for a long time," he corrected himself abruptly, realizing she might cry if he mentioned her mother's death. The last thing he wanted to do was upset her.

The tears vanished, the brightness in her eyes now joy instead of sorrow. "I'm so happy! I have to draw it that way, for the magic to work. Balance is critical in magic. Without balance, if you're lucky, the magic just won't work, but usually, it works, but in a wrong way, a bad way. A ward of protection can blow up instead. A concealment spell can reveal you. The ward to hide our Soul Wavelength would reveal the house instead. It takes time and patience to do it correctly, especially new spells and wards. Not that I try to make my own, yet. That's much too dangerous. But I have my mother's grimoire," she said proudly, reverently. Then she looked sad.

"Aunt Esmeralda killed my mother, because she wouldn't give it to her. My mother knew she'd do bad things with it. That she'd hurt people." The tears were back, and this time they fell.

Kid felt his heart thud in alarm. _I didn't mean to make her cry! How can I…? Patty is almost always smiling, but when Patty is sad, Liz hugs her._ Kid bit his lip. Crying was messy, tears and mucus and…

To his relief, Mifune hugged her. "It's alright, Angela. Your mother was very good and very brave, just like you. You kept Esmeralda from stealing the grimoire too, when she attacked us. I'm very proud of you, and I will always protect you, even once you're grown up. You won't ever be alone."

Angela sniffed, her face still buried in Mifune's chest, and then she backed up, nodding.

"If you wash the tears from your face, you'll feel better," Kid suggested helpfully and hopefully.

"Death the Kid is right, Angela," Mifune agreed.

"Please, just call me Kid. Both of you," he requested, surprising himself. He usually only liked family and friends calling him Kid. The way Mifune had said it before, when he just called him "kid", was different. It should have felt disrespectful, but it hadn't somehow.

Mifune looked surprised, but then he smiled.

The affect on Angela was nothing short of magical. "Does that mean you realize you're our friend now?" she asked eagerly.

Kid started in surprise and then thought about it, looking into her red rimmed eyes, ignoring the messy tear streaks on her face. "Yes. Yes you are," he decided, to his wonder. "Friends help one another, especially when they need it most. They protect them and make them happy again, when they're sad or afraid. You and Mifune rescued me, and tended my injuries, and fixed my hair, and made and continue to make everything symmetrical for me: my room, my hair, the ramen, my cast. You are definitely both my friends.

"And I'm going to make certain my father knows everything you did, so he'll want to protect you, both of you. He's strong enough that he can protect Mifune from Esmeralda. I'm usually strong too, but she must have done something to keep the shadows from helping me," Kid added, embarrassed and frustrated.

Angela nodded, the joy on her face giving way to intensity. "She used Shadow Steal. Remember I told you that Witches can create new wards? Not all our magic is ward based. Wards are fixed, they're great, because you can charge them with magic when you're strong and use that magic when you need it most, in a fight, or when you're sick or hurt or weak. But there's also spell magic, which is living magic, fluid magic. The Witch casts the spell and uses the energy she has at the time, not what's stored away.

"Because of that, spellcasting is usually weaker than wards, but if you're a really powerful Witch, it can be strong. Or if you're a very bad Witch, it can be incredibly strong, because it's tied to a person's Soul Wavelength, their life energy. But a bad Witch doesn't just drain her own Soul Wavelength. She uses other souls to power her spells. Usually, by draining the life from humans. Killing them. Human sacrifices. It's because of bad Witches like Esmeralda that we're all hated and feared. It's because of them the DWMA wants to kill us," Angela said sadly.

Kid was appalled. "But… but that's not fair! That's punishing everyone for the evil actions of a few people. It's like what Mifune was saying. That would be like a Reaper wanting to kill every Weapon on the planet, just because they might become Kishin Eggs!"

"Now do you see why I've been fighting so hard to protect her from the DWMA?" Mifune challenged. "Angela isn't evil. She's been trying to protect people from her aunt, by guarding her mother's grimoire, and I've been protecting her, but the DWMA has been weakening us both, fighting against us, when they should be helping us.

"That rule your father made, about needing 99 Kishin Eggs and one Witch's soul to become a Death Scythe? That's all it is, just a rule. Witches don't have to die for your Weapons to become Scythes. In your grandfather's time, they didn't. And they shouldn't have to," Mifune declared.

Kid frowned. _Why would my father do that? Is he… is he afraid of Witches? Because they are so powerful, they can even counteract our Reaper powers? Father is Lord Death, he's a Death God. Gods are powerful, but they need to temper that with mercy and compassion. We need to._

"That's why we have to get you safely back to the DWMA, as quickly as we can," Mifune told Kid. "Because Lord Death hasn't always been the way he appears now. In the past, he was truly terrifying. These past few hundred years, his rage has banked, and he's calmed somewhat, but he started targeting Witches after he learned his father, your grandfather, was killed by a Witch.

"If you're killed by Esmeralda, Lord Death will declare open war on Witches. It's going to be a fullscale hunt and slaughter, not a relatively even contest between Meister, Weapon and Witch, as it is now. And once you and Lord Death and the most powerful Witches on the planet have destroyed one another, Esmeralda is going come out of the shadows and become Witch Queen of the world. And with the spells she knows, with an unlimited supply of human sacrifices, she'll be immortal and invincible," Mifune stated grimly.

Kid's eyes widened in horror. "Grandfather was killed by a Witch? That's why Witches are hunted? That's Esmeralda's plan? She's that powerful?"

"I'm afraid so. I swear on my honor as a samurai that every word I've spoken is true," Mifune agreed.

"Then why are we just sitting here, eating dinner and hiding?" Kid demanded, bolting to his feet, heart hammering. Pain shot through his chest and a wave of dizziness washed over him, and he swayed. Mifune's strong hand steadied him.

"Easy there, Kid. That's why we're waiting. Because you're too injured to fight effectively right now, and so am I. And Angela's hoarding and channeling her magic into some powerful protection wards we're going to use when we go mobile," Mifune explained.

"Can't she siphon off the magic in the Soul Protection ward on the floor instead? We don't know much about a Witch's magic, but even if it's keyed to only that specific type of ward, it's the same kind, isn't it? I told you, I'm granting you both sanctuary at the DWMA. We'll provide you with a house, clothes, money, whatever you need. You won't need to return here, so it won't matter if it's destroyed. You said this was just a temporary haven you found, right?" Kid urged.

"We can't leave, the three of us, in the shape we're in now. We'd be easy prey, especially since Angela still hasn't figured out how to negate Esmeralda's Shadow Steal. Without your two Weapons and your Reaper power, you'd die, and we won't let that happen," Mifune argued.

"Patty and Beelzebub must have at least gotten through. The DWMA must be looking for me. If there's a way for me to contact them, Professor Stein and Spirit, and even Soul, Maka, Black*Star, Tsubaki and the others can escort us safely. If the Witch Esmeralda was powerful enough already to take us on in a direct attack, she wouldn't have resorted to tricking us into going after you, into a trap, right?" Kid argued.

Mifune sighed, looking thoughtful. Finally he nodded. "Angela, is there a way Kid can call for help, without lowering the Soul Protection and exposing us?"

Angela looked very serious, like she was thinking really hard. Then her whole face lit up. "I know! Remember the hair you trimmed, Mifune, to fix the way it was cut? You had to cut some of the Lines of Sanzu too. Those stripes define Reapers as Death Gods, they're the most powerful outward reflection of their Soul Wavelength. And reflections are important to Death Gods. They talk through mirrors, and can even walk through them, if they're powerful enough, or at focal points, where ley lines converge, boosting their innate power.

"The DWMA rests at the conjunction of the strongest ley lines in this hemisphere, and it's Kid's home. So if you and I each carry half of the Lines of Sanzu you cut, theoretically, we should all be able to walk through a mirror here and emerge at the DWMA!" Angela cried happily.

Kid felt a tremendous surge of elation and relief, but also, confusion. _What do they mean, about my hair, my stripes, being a reflection of my Soul Wavelength, and a symbol of being a Reaper? Has Father been keeping more secrets?_

Mifune shook his head. "I'm sorry, but we can't risk that. Esmeralda knows of the importance of the Lines of Sanzu, right? If she kept some of Kid's hair, couldn't she mess up the spell? Maybe even intercept us or something?"

Angela's eyes widened in horror and her face immediately fell. "You're right. She could. She would. I almost got us all killed!"

"No, Angela. Don't think like that," Kid said, beating Mifune to the punch. "It was a brilliant plan. Just because she would have thought of it too doesn't make it less brilliant. But that gives me an idea. If my stripes… Lines of Sanzu… reflect my Soul Wavelength, could we tie pieces to cats or birds or mice or something, and send them in different directions, to confuse Esmeralda, and then mask me, somehow, and escape on foot, while she's following those false trails?"

Angela's eyes lit with excitement again. "Oh yes! That could work. I'm already charging the three Soul Protect wards we need to carry, one for each of us. I feed at least a dozen stray cats a day – they all know to come to the kitchen door when they're hungry – so I don't have to risk exposing us summoning them or anything. Esmeralda is attuned to dogs, not cats, for her familiar, like me, so it's safe.

"If I send cats through my mirror, she'll be busy chasing them, and then I can drain the Soul Protect circle in the living room into our wards, and we can go. And we'll wear hooded cloaks, to hide our faces on the street, and stay away from the shadows, since we don't know which ones are hers, now. If your friends are looking for you, there are likely some nearby. They can help us get to the DWMA safely."

"You're sure they won't hurt Angela? They think she killed those people and stole their souls, right? Will the other Meisters listen to you? Without your Weapons or shadows to aid you, you won't be able to force them," Mifune pressed, in concern.

Kid nodded. "They respect me, and fight at my side as comrades. They don't fear me. They'll listen. I swear to you as a Reaper that I will protect you and Angela with my life."

"Alright. Then you and I need to help Angela however she needs," Mifune said decisively.


	6. Chapter 6 - War of the Witches: Who Will

**These characters are under copyright by** **Atsushi Ōkubo, Squar Enix, Yen Press, Shōnen,** **  
Akatsuki Yamatoya.** **Madman Entertainment, Manga Entertainment, Funimation, and/or others. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.**

 **A/N:  
If you like this story, my _Shingeki no Kyojin (Attack on Titan)_ stories, and my _D. Gray-Man/Karneval_ stories, you might also enjoy my published original four book high fantasy series, Descent of Kings, which includes strong female, multi-ethnic, bisexual and gay characters, and is available on Amazon and through the publisher, Dreamspinner. It's a tale of lost kingdoms, valiant and desperate heroes, and epic battles and quests, in a medieval world populated by humans, Elves, Dwarves, Ogres and mythical beasts, battling a god-like insane necromancer and his army of the dead.**

Chapter 6 – War of the Witches: Who Will Prevail?

 _Where in the name of Lord Death is he?_ Soul was growing more frustrated and worried by the minute. They'd been ordered to keep away from the ransom meeting site, for Kid's safety. Stein and Spirit were Justin's back-up, but were keeping their distance, for fear Giriko would retaliate violently and either kill or maim Kid, if they were spotted. Assuming Kid was even there. Everyone expected it to simply be a trap for Justin, that Kid was being used as the bait. As Soul feared, the ransom meeting time had come and gone and they hadn't received word that Kid was safe.

When they finally contacted Spirit, he'd told them tersely that the meeting hadn't been successful, that they didn't have Kid back, or know where he was, and that everyone needed to keep looking. That had been over 24 hours ago. Kid had been missing for more than a day, the Sun was nearly setting again, the Moon had already begun to rise, and they still hadn't found any further trace of him.

 _Kid has to be here somewhere, right? Why hasn't anybody been able to detect his Soul Wavelength? Lord Death insists he's still alive, and if anyone would know, he would._

"Soul? Do you think…? What if we can't…?" Maka asked, her voice sounding timid and quiet and small, things he'd normally never associate with Maka, but she looked completely exhausted, though she'd been keeping up with them without complaint, in spite of the crutches.

"Don't you dare say it!" Black*Star demanded loudly. "There's no way Kid's gone for good. He's a Reaper! Sure, if he was a Meister or Weapon, maybe, well, anyone but me, 'cause I'm a God, and Soul, 'cause he's way too cool, but some of the others, yeah, maybe. But this is Kid we're talking about. With everything he's faced and beaten, you think some psycho chainsaw Weapon Meister is good enough to beat him? No freaking way!"

Patty nodded in agreement, still clenching Kid's tangled, cut hair tightly. "That's right. Kid wouldn't do that to Liz. She'd blame herself if something bad happened to him. So he's still OK."

Soul wished he had Black*Star's and Patty's blind faith. Thinking Kid might already be dead made Soul feel like a fist was squeezing his heart, made it hard to breathe, but if Kid was still alive, they should have found him by now. It had been a mistake to send Justin Law to the cathedral, even if Stein and Spirit had been sent in as back-up. It had obviously been more than the three could handle.

Soul shivered, as the sky unexpectedly blackened all around them, and the temperature suddenly plummeted. He was certain he'd be able to see his breath, if there had been any light to see by, but it was suddenly as black as the inside of a tomb, as if a demon had eaten the Laughing Sun and Bleeding Moon.

"Maka!" Soul transformed to Weapon mode, not waiting for the attack he knew would strike at any time.

"Tsubaki, Enchanted Sword mode!" Black*Star commanded.

"By the Bleeding Moon, who are you cursed brats? Are you watching, Reaper spawn? You think you can escape my wrath forever? You saw what I did to those cats, yet still you sacrifice Meisters and Weapons to me, so you might escape? You truly are Lord Death's son. I swear as a Daughter of Hecate I will have my revenge for all my murdered sistren. If I cannot consume your soul, I will dine upon theirs!" a vicious woman's voice shrilled from the darkness.

0 0 0

Maka let her crutches fall as she snatched up Soul, using her injured right foot only for balance, her weight on her left. She was confused when she didn't feel another Soul Wavelength, and then stunned. She couldn't feel anyone! Not Black*Star or Tsubaki, who she could no longer see as the air around her somehow turned to ink, or even Soul, though she could feel his reassuring weight in her hands.

The air was rapidly becoming strangely thick and heavy to breathe, the disturbing shadow all around them smothering, like molasses, like tar. Maka fought to move, to breathe, to think as she held Soul at the ready. And then there was a scream of rage, and a split second later a tremendous explosion terrifyingly close by, and Maka was pelted by dust and shrapnel, as the darkness vanished.

Maka almost fell over as the weight of the oppressive shadow suddenly and unexpectedly disappeared. She stared in shock. Only feet from her was a woman, in the distinctive hat and robe of a Witch. But instead of attacking, she was clawing at a hissing, spitting, furry mask of feline fury which was clinging to her face, raking bloody furrows in her cheeks and scalp.

She stared in shock. _That cat saved us!_ The blast had clearly been aimed at the four of them, but had hit the building behind them instead, and taken out at least two floors.

As Maka sprang forwards to attack, before she could reach her with Soul, the Witch pried the night black cat off her face and threw it into the building beside her. There was no time for the cat to twist in midair, to land on its feet. It hit the brick wall with horrifying speed and a sickening crunch, and slid down, leaving a bloody streak on the rough brick. She heard a mournful yowl as a striped orange furry shape darted over to the crumpled and lifeless cat.

With a scream of rage and anguish for the brave fallen cat, Maka attacked, but the Witch somehow parried the scythe blow with her robed arm, knocking Maka back. Caught off balance by the unexpected parry, Maka stumbled, wincing in pain as fire shot up from her injured ankle, as it unexpectedly bore her full weight, as the Witch raised a hand coruscating with emerald green light, to finish her.

But then Black*Star attacked, giving Maka the crucial moment she needed to regain her balance for her next attack. Her eyes widened in shock as with a flash of light, Black*Star was flung back into the nearest building, Tsubaki falling to the pavement with a loud clang.

"Black*Star!" Soul yelled.

"Tsubaki!" Maka cried simultaneously, as she lunged forward to defend Black*Star and Tsubaki, as they'd protected her, even as the Witch's hand flared again with light. But then the orange cat launched at the Witch, latching onto her forearm, its unexpected weight dragging down her arm and making the shot go wild, slamming into the street instead of Maka and Soul.

The Witch ripped the orange cat from her arm and flung it away, as Maka attacked. She was certain this time she'd hit the Witch. But somehow the shadows all around them rose up and ensnared Soul, as she tried to bring her Death Scythe down, to kill the Witch. Shadows wrapped around her arms and legs, and then her chest, crushing her, and then her throat, strangling her.

"Let Maka go!" Black*Star demanded, to her relief.

 _He's still alive!_ Through fading eyes Maka saw Black*Star snatch up Tsubaki, and rise to his feet, but he was leaning against the wall for support. Then he lurched forward, in a distorted parody of his usual powerful attacks.

"Pitiful children! You cannot defeat me!" the Witch cackled, as Maka's vision sparked, her hands desperately trying to pry the suffocating shadow from about her throat.

0 0 0

There was an explosion ahead and off to the left, not immediately nearby, but far too close for comfort. Mifune turned towards the sound, his hand immediately going to his concealed sword hilt, under the long, thick cloak he was wearing. They were all wearing them.

Kid had already felt completely exposed on the road with Mifune and Angela, even though he was as cloaked by cloth and magic as they were. He expected at any moment for them to be discovered, but so far they'd traveled effortlessly.

He froze when a black cat with four white paws ran up to Angela, and leapt onto her shoulder, thinking it was one of the ones with his Lines of Sanzu tucked into its collar, that they were betrayed, when Angela paled. Kid didn't understand why Mifune wasn't protecting her from it, but when he moved to pull it off of her, Mifune restrained him.

"She speaks to cats. They're sort of like familiars to her. Because she hasn't bonded to a single cat, she has a weaker bond with all cats everywhere. That's why she can't help feeding all those strays, why they know to come to us for food.

"What did he tell you?" Mifune asked Angela, not speaking her name. She'd warned them before they left the house not to speak any of their names aloud, because it would weaken the ward and draw attention to them.

"He said… the others… the one's I sent out as decoys… she…" tears welled in her eyes, as she hugged the black cat.

 _That Witch Esmeralda killed the cats? She truly is a monster, to take out her anger on helpless animals,_ Kid fumed.

They continued walking, but altering their course to detour around the sounds of trouble.

A second cat approached, a dirty and bloody striped orange tabby, staggering, coming from the direction of the blast. It collapsed half a block from them. Angela set the black and white cat down and head for the other one at a run, kneeling by it, reaching for it.

"No, don't! You'll betray us to her if you use your magic to help him," Mifune cautioned, intercepting her.

"I can't let him die," Angela argued tearfully.

"Everyone will die if we're caught. We'll bring him with us," Mifune compromised, and reached for the limp cat slowly, talking soothingly to him, and then gently lifting him. The cat lay panting in silent pain.

"You need your hands free for your swords. Give him to me. I'll carry him," Kid offered.

Mifune looked at him doubtfully. "He's pretty messy."

"We're all going to look a lot worse, if we get caught. I can stand it for a little while," Kid assured Mifune.

Mifune cautiously held the cat out to him, but before Kid touched him, he began struggling, while meowing frantically.

Angela's eyes widened. "He says you smell like the littermate of the human girl the Witch that smells of his own littermate's blood and fur is fighting. He says your littermate smells like blood and fear and your fur."

Kid frowned. "We need to help whoever it is, but I have no idea what he's talking about. I don't have a littermate, a brother or sist… Patty! It has to be! Where is she? Can he show us, or can we track him?" Kid asked frantically.

Angela touched her hand to the cat's head, closing her eyes, and then they snapped open again. "This way!"

"Wait! This is probably a trap! It's probably the Witch trying to find us," Mifune argued, not risking mentioning Esmeralda by name.

"Patty's my friend! I won't let her die!" Kid yelled.

"I'm not saying we don't help. Just that we can't just run in. We need to be careful," Mifune urged.

Then they heard a scream, echoing across the buildings, coming from the left. The cat yowled. "Turn left at the fire hydrant, and run until you see the fish store!" Angela commanded.

Kid took off, even as Mifune scooped up Angela. Kid couldn't hear Mifune's footsteps, they were as silent as his own, but suddenly he was running beside him.

0 0 0

Black*Star stood panting and swaying, even with the lamppost at his back, without the strength to even brush his blood-matted bangs from his eyes. He'd be on his knees without the metal pole at his back, or more likely, flat on his back. But he was the only thing standing between that vicious Witch and Tsubaki, who'd been forcefully turned back to human form after that horrible snapping sound, when she screamed.

He couldn't tell if Maka was still fighting, still conscious, or if Soul was – the air had become opaque with shadow again, and the Witch kept ambushing them out of the darkness. The Witch had knocked Patty into the wall. Last he'd seen, before the blackness engulfed everything, Patty hadn't been moving, and Maka had been trying to get behind the Witch.

"Stop hiding in the shadows, Witch! You're going to face me and fight me, and you're going to tell us where Death the Kid is," Black*Star challenged.

There was an amused laugh, not a shrill, cackling one, but a happy, joyous one, as if he'd just told her a good joke.

"I don't know why you'd even want him. There wasn't much of him left, after that traitorous bastard Giriko got through with him. I told him we needed him alive and relatively unharmed, but he apparently thinks that means breathing with most of his limbs still attached and functioning. Like foolish little girls who get in my way: the one who likes cats more than her own life, that broken Weapon of yours, and this bloody little thing under my foot."

 _Maka, Tsubaki, Patty!_

"Enlighten!" a painfully young, high pitched voice cried, and there was a brilliant flash of orange light that flared out from a little over a meter above the ground, bathing the entire street in a warm orange glow. The shadows didn't disappear, but they weakened, making it easier to move, to breathe, even as the air flashed with silver as a cloaked swordsman unleashed a flurry of attacks against the Witch.

Shadows grabbed the swordsman by the throat, yanking him away from her, and the hood fell from his head.

"Mifune! Angela!" Black*Star cried, in stunned recognition of the little Witch and her protector, as Mifune slashed vainly at the shadows choking him.

Black*Star staggered towards them.

"Patty!" an impossible, anguished voice cried, and Black*Star froze in shock, spinning, as a second cloaked figure ran towards the bloody and lifeless looking girl revealed by the faint orange light.

Patty's eyes fluttered open. "Kid?" she cried in stunned disbelief, as she struggled to sit.

"Kid!" Black*Star echoed in relief. _How could I believe what that lying Witch said about Kid? There's no way that chainsaw freak could take out Kid!_

"Soul! Maka!" Kid cried, and Black*Star turned, his stomach clenching as he followed Kid's gaze. Both Meister and Weapon were crumpled on the ground, their arms protectively around one another, but they were both bloody and beaten, pale and still as death.

"Lookout!" Black*Star yelled in panic, as a bright emerald glow flared to life in his peripheral vision. He lunged to protect Kid, knowing he couldn't possibly reach him in time, and he didn't. One of the deadly coruscating green projectiles slammed into Kid's weaponless left arm, which he'd instinctively raised to block the blow, to try to protect his face, smashing into the glaring white cast that covered it.

0 0 0

Kid stared in shock at his arm as the deadly blast harmlessly dissipated around him, and then in wonder at the glowing orange ward on the cast, pulsing like a heartbeat. "It wasn't supposed to be charged," he whispered numbly.

"What good is a Ward of Protection, if it isn't charged?" Angela asked, as she pulled something out from under her dress at her throat, something on a thick platinum chain, and clutched it in her hand.

"Light of our Mother!" Angela called out, in a voice not her own. It wasn't a single voice at all, but a chorus of voices, far older than her own.

Silvery beams of light burst out from between her tiny clenched fingers, haloing her in light, which burnt out and upwards, through the blackness, piercing it everywhere, growing and spreading, eradicating the viscous shadow that had been smothering them. Angela was glowing like her namesake, as if she truly were an angel, an ethereal being, the light highlighting the beauty of her face so that it brought tears to Kid's eyes.

"You little thief! How dare you use that pendant against me!" the older Witch shrilled, shrinking back towards the buildings, holding her arms over her head, as if to fend off the light, as her clothes and hair began to smoke.

Kid's eyes widened as the older Witch's beautiful face melted as if wax beneath a flame, revealing crags and crevasses, wrinkles and age spots.

"You cannot hide from the Mother of all Witches, Blessed Hecate. She sees your many sins and judges you, displaying your cankerous soul upon your face for all the world to see," Angela intoned, different voices speaking each word. But then Angela crumpled.

Kid was too far away to reach her, but Mifune lurched forwards, crying her name as he caught her, his voice broken and hoarse, but his throat not fully crushed. "Angela!" he croaked, hunched over her, shielding her with his body.

"Now you pay for using magicks beyond your years! And that collared watchdog dies with you!" the vile hag shrieked in glee as she lurched forward, hands raised, fingers glowing green clawed talons.

Kid reached out from where he lay, straining vainly for Patty, who lay dazed and too far away. Only his shadow, cast by the restored light of the Bleeding Moon, touched his Weapon. To his astonishment and hope, his shadow's fingers wrapped around her and she transformed, he could feel the shadow clutching the pistol grip as an extension of his hand, as it should be. _My Reaper power!_

"Patty, fire!" Kid yelled. The moment his flesh and blood hand closed around the pistol grip, Patty snapped out of her daze and obeyed. Shot after shot tore through the unprepared and unguarded Witch, from her ankles to her knees and hips and back, as he lifted his Weapon higher, ripping through her before she could reach Angela. She turned with a horrific scream and then exploded, leaving only her dark soul floating in front of them.

Kid's arm fell, but he still held his Weapon tightly. He slowly dragged himself over to Angela and Mifune, not caring he was scraping his borrowed cloak and jeans on the filthy ground, to his relief seeing the beautiful glow of the little Witch's pure soul in orbit about Mifune's, in an intricate dance of balance like binary stars, though thankfully yet confined by their bodies.

He dipped his fingertip into the bloody wound on his thigh, and wrote on the dirty window above his head the numbers 42-42-564 and muttered, just to be sure his call for help got through, "42-42-564, whenever you want to knock on Death's door."

He forced himself to remain conscious as the portal opened. The sky darkened again, in shadow he expected to feel soothing, and a Reaper emerged, but someone terrifying and monstrous, nothing like the father he loved, a deadly Scythe pulsing with power in his hands.

Kid raised Patty in a hand that shook wildly from pain and exhaustion. "Who are you? Where's my father? Stay back! These Meisters and Weapons are my friends, and the Witch Angela and Swordmaster Mifune are innocent. Everyone here is under the protection of Death the Kid!"

The terrifying specter hesitated, instead of lunging to attack, as he'd feared.

"Stay away from Angela and Mifune and Kid. If you want to fight a God, fight me," Black*Star croaked, as he stumbled to Kid's side, his chin raised defiantly, though he was weaponless and could obviously barely stand.

"Kid?" a familiar voice cried in disbelief, and then he yelled "Maka!", and suddenly the Scythe transformed into the familiar figure of Spirit, as he rushed over to his fallen daughter.

"Son?" the strange Reaper asked in an almost familiar voice, even as the image wavered and changed softening to the figure of the father he loved.

"Father?" Kid asked tentatively, reaching out with his shadow cautiously, keeping his guard up, in case it was some sort of trick, someone in league with Esmeralda, or another Witch, taking advantage of their weakness. But then he felt his father's familiar shadow coiling around his own.

"You're here? You're alright?" Lord Death asked, and then he was embracing him. "Stein was right. I should have listened."

"Dad?" Maka asked, her voice full of pain, but not nearly as weak as it could have been.

 _Thank Father she's alive!_ "Soul and Tsubaki, are they alive?" Kid asked.

"Like I'd let some Witch take me out when you needed me," Soul claimed weakly.

Kid felt weak with relief, even though he still feared for Tsubaki.

"Tsubaki's unconscious, but alive," Black*Star reported.

 _Thank Father._ "Father, is Liz alright?" Kid asked, fearing the answer, but needing to know.

"She's alive and recovering, thanks to you," his father replied. "But you could have died, sending both your Weapons and Beelzebub away. It's their duty to protect you. What were you thinking?" Death demanded.

"I couldn't let them die because of me. As a Reaper, I knew I stood a better chance of surviving against a Witch that powerful. Not Angela. Esmeralda. That's her soul," he asserted, as he pointed to it. "She was the one who killed all those innocent people and framed the Witch Angela and her protector Mifune for it. Father, I promised I'd bring both Angela and Mifune to the DWMA, that they'll be under our protection. They rescued me and tended my injuries. They saved my life and… and my sanity," Kid admitted, looking his father in the eye.

"It's true that Angela is a Witch, but she's not evil. I don't care if a Witch killed Grandfather. That doesn't give you the right to decree all Witches targets. That would be like us hunting humans just because they might turn into Kishin Eggs," he challenged, repeating his earlier words to Mifune.

"Angela's mother Umbra died keeping her grimoire out of Esmeralda's hands. Angela risked death protecting it, because she knew Esmeralda would misuse it. Angela's magic is all healing magic and protection wards, good magic. We need to give them sanctuary at the DWMA. There's so much we don't understand about magic. Angela can teach us. The more we know, the better we'll understand, and we can finally end this pointless war with the Witches."

"You want me to open the doors of the DWMA to a Witch, not only as a student, but as a teacher?" Death asked incredulously.

"Yes. And Mifune would make a wonderful teacher as well. And if you'll allow it, I want them both to stay at our house, at least until Mifune recovers. I want them where I can protect them, and speak with them, and… They're my friends."

Death looked astonished and then he smiled. "Your friends? There was a time, long ago, when Reapers and Witches were friends, before we were betrayed. But you're right: I shouldn't have allowed the actions of a few to taint my view of all Witches. I'm so proud of you, son."

Kid exhaled in relief. His father was listening, he wasn't trying to attack them, and he sounded willing to change his draconian views.

"Let's get everyone back to the Infirmary. There's a certain young lady who will be very relieved to see all of you, when she wakes up," Death claimed.

Kid nodded, and then his eyes widened. "Giriko! He was working with Esmeralda. He's the one who abducted me. We need to find him."

"Now, now, son. You leave that to us. You and the others have done enough for one day," Death assured him, but in that way Kid now recognized meant his father was hiding something from him.

"What aren't you telling me? What are you keeping from me? What's happened?" Kid demanded.

"Nothing," Death assured him, waving his hands, but not sounding at all convincing.

"You might as well tell him, sir. Stein likely will, if you don't, or he'll hear some of the others talking about it," Spirit urged, sounding unusually subdued.

"What is it, Father?" Kid demanded.

Death sighed. "There was a ransom note, with some of your hair and blood, demanding we send Justin Law to negotiate the terms of your release, threatening they'd dismember you if we didn't. Justin left to meet with Giriko. Stein and Spirit followed but somehow Giriko outmaneuvered them. Justin has vanished. Just like with you, there's no sign of his Soul Wavelength anywhere. He's completely disappeared, and we have no idea where to look," his father reluctantly admitted.

Kid felt the blood drain from his face. "That sadistic maniac has Justin?" he whispered, remembering Giriko's sick taunts.

"You let us worry about that. You and the others need to rest, to heal. Justin's a lot stronger than any of you realize, than Giriko realizes. He'll be fine. We'll make sure of it," his father promised.

Kid knew he wasn't in any condition to help search for Justin, with the new injury on his leg, and his ribs and hand still healing, that Patty and Liz were in even worse shape. He'd have to trust his father and some of the other Meisters and Weapons to rescue Justin.

"Come on, son," his father urged, but Kid insisted Soul , Maka, Black*Star, Tsubaki, Mifune and Angela enter the portal first, before he'd step through with Patty. Angela gently picked up the wounded orange tabby cat who'd fought with them, cradling him against her, and Mifune carried them both.

One by one, each of them disappeared through the portal, and then it was finally Kid's turn. When he saw the familiar Guillotine Arches he exhaled in relief. For a while he'd never thought he'd see home again.


	7. Chapter 7 - The God's Tears: Do You Know

**These characters are under copyright by** **Atsushi Ōkubo, Squar Enix, Yen Press, Shōnen,** **  
Akatsuki Yamatoya.** **Madman Entertainment, Manga Entertainment, Funimation,** **and/or others. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.**

 **A/N:  
I've reached 1,225 views for this story! Thanks to everyone who has viewed, reviewed, favorited and followed this story so far. Don't be shy! Let me know what you think! And for all you Crona and Ragnarok fans out there, be sure to return next Thursday for Chapter 8 – Confessions: Good for the Soul?**

Chapter 7 – The God's Tears: Do You Know the Story?

Stein and Nygus already had the Auxiliary Infirmary prepped and ready, all three dozen of the beds it contained. Thankfully it was empty of patients before they entered. The two immediately insisted that everyone needed to lie down and undergo thorough examinations and whatever treatment they declared necessary.

Kid was too exhausted to argue, though first he made certain Mifune and Angela would be tended to with equal vigor and attention. Mifune tried to insist he was fine, but Nygus soon had him in a bed next to Angela's.

"Don't ever disappear like that again," Soul scolded Kid, from the bed on his right. Patty was on his left, but Liz was still in the main infirmary.

"I don't intend to," Kid assured him.

"Maka and Black*Star were really worried about you," Soul stressed.

"What about you and Tsubaki?" Kid asked curiously.

"Nah. We knew you'd be fine," Soul claimed, as Stein examined him.

"Give me a break. You were so worried about him you were all but crying like a little girl," Black*Star accused.

"Just what are you implying about girls, with a line like that?" Maka demanded, as her father hovered over her.

"Showing you care about your friends isn't a weakness, Black*Star. Strong men aren't afraid to reveal their feelings," Tsubaki scolded from her own bed, to Kid's relief. She was conscious again and couldn't be too gravely injured, if she sounded so strong.

"Men, maybe, but Gods don't cry," Black*Star claimed stubbornly, as Nygus cleaned the worst of his wounds.

"Then I guess you've never heard the legend of how the oceans were formed," Mifune said unexpectedly, from his bed across the aisle from Kid, where he could see him and Angela easily.

"What do you mean?" Black*Star asked, sounding surprisingly respectful and intrigued, unlike he usually did when someone disagreed with him about what it meant to be a God.

"Long, long ago, when the earth was still new, a pure, happy place full of life and hope, there were four Gods: the Goddess of Life, the God of Death, the God of the Sun and the God of the Moon. Death, the Sun and the Moon all fell in love with Life, and wanted to woo her, to make her their own," Mifune intoned, the attention of everyone in the room suddenly focusing upon him. Kid could tell even Stein and Nygus were listening, as they worked.

"The arrogant Sun told Life that she should pick him to be her husband, because there could not be life without him. Without his light, plants could not grow, animals would have nothing to eat, and humans nothing to harvest or hunt. The proud Moon told Life his gifts were more precious, because he gave men the gift of dreams, relieving their minds and hearts from memory of hunger and their weary toil under the hot sun for food and happiness.

"Humble and somber Death listened to both of his rivals and knew he could never compete with either for Life's affections, for he provided neither food nor sleep, but only an end to both toils and dreams. He was the opposite of Life, destroying all she created. Knowing he could never ask Life for her hand, he fled to the opposite side of the world, intending to remain there for all eternity, alone and apart from his fellow Gods. And in his loneliness and despair, he began to weep.

"Day after day, night after night he cried, in endless sorrow, until the valleys filled with his tears, the plains flooded with them and the mountains drowned under them, until he created a vast ocean, and the sea of his tears threatened to inundate the whole world.

"'The God of Death has covered two thirds of the world in his salty tears! Salted fields cannot grow plants, such water cannot sustain life. We cannot allow this to continue, or the entire world will be rendered lifeless. We must combine our powers and destroy him, lest he submerge and destroy the world,' the God of the Moon urged belligerently.

"'You must choose between us, now, Life. The uncertainty only fuels his despair. Once you have chosen, and all hope is lost to him, he will finally accept it is his fate to be alone,' the Sun urged more passively, for he had been a jovial fellow, before the constant vying began for Life's hand.

"'Come with me. I must speak with the three of you together one last time, before announcing my decision,' the Goddess of Life proclaimed. For although she was earthbound, she had observed what the Sun and the Moon high in the sky overhead did not see.

"The Gods of the Sun and Moon eagerly agreed, each confident he was the one who would be chosen. And so the three of them sailed across the enormous new sea.

"As he crossed the great ocean, the God of the Sun stared in breathless amazement and awe, as he saw what he had not noticed from his perch in his home on the Sun, so high overhead. His light illuminated school after school of fish swimming in what he had thought were lifeless waters, and pods of enormous whales, far larger than anything that lived upon the land, consuming the fish, while even larger whales strained tiny krill from the water.

"The absurdity of it, the disparity of it all, that the largest survived because of the tiniest, that the sea he had thought lifeless instead teemed with life, made him smile. Then a pod of dolphins began to race their ship, cavorting and frolicking and laughing as they gave chase, without a care as to who was fastest, making him laugh. All this time he had been so consumed with his competition with Death and the Moon for Life, that he had forgotten how to enjoy his own existence. He had thought only the Goddess of Life could bring him happiness, but had forgotten that true happiness comes not from without, but from within.

"'I shall return,' the God of the Sun promised, as he rose again into the sky, to his home. And now he looked down at the world below him and truly saw it for the first time. He had been blind to the many ways Death fuels life, how dead leaves and grass fertilize the soil, how dead animals provide food for other animals and insects, how even the remains in their excrement fertilize the soil and plants it sustains. And now there was also the sea, and all its bounty, to sustain far more life than ever before.

"The Sun God returned to the ship, light of heart and joyous in his decision. 'Though I feed the plants of the land and even the plankton of the sea with the warmth of my rays, I cannot compete with a treasure such as this. Water is life. The bounty the God of Death has provided is a fitting dowry for the Goddess of Life. I withdraw my bid as your suitor, gentle Goddess, and instead urge you to choose the God of Death as your husband.'

"The God of the Moon scoffed at the God of the Sun, though he was relieved to have the one he viewed as his only true adversary removed from the competition. The Moon God denigrated the Sun's foolish claim, until the Sun God shook his head and rose back into the sky.

"'I choose to be happy, and I warn you, one day your biting tongue will be the end of you. Jealousy and bitterness lead only to sorrow. Be content with your palace in the sky and your dreams, and leave the world to Life and Death.' The God of the Sun refused to let the darkness of the Moon shroud him, and basked in the life below, laughing in renewed joy and wonder at the world.

"Unfortunately, the God of the Moon ignored the God of the Sun's wise counsel, and continued to malign the God of Death, until the Goddess of Life could bear it no longer. 'With every word you fall ever farther from my favor. I had thought to at least remain your friend, but I cannot abide by one as petty and vicious as you. Bite your tongue!' she snapped in frustration.

"When the God of the Moon belatedly realized he had alienated the one he was trying to woo, he was desperate to regain her favor. So he bit his tongue, as she had commanded, so hard that it bled, but seeing it, instead of being appeased, she turned from him.

He wiped the blood from his chin, and stared at his bloody hands and then at her perfect neck. And that is when the God of the Moon went mad. He lunged forwards, and tore out her throat with his teeth, so she could not tell Death she had chosen him instead, in a desperate attempt to forever keep her from Death's embrace. And bleeding and voiceless, the Goddess of Life toppled into the sea of Death's tears.

"The God of the Moon stared in horror at the growing cloud of blood in the water, and fled to his palace on the Moon, consumed by his madness, his face drenched in Life's blood, mingled with his own, fulfilling the God of the Sun's grim prophecy.

"But all was not lost, because as the mortally wounded Goddess of Life sank into the ocean, Death was instantly drawn to her in her final moments and embraced her, ravaged by grief yet bright with hope.

"'In death there is life and in life there is death, for all who live must die, but death fuels new life. Life and Death have never been two, but have always ever been one. Join with me now, my beloved other half, so that we may become whole,' they spoke, in unison, though Life could only soundlessly voice the words.

In that moment, Life and Death were reunited, and the world was filled with balance and harmony. And that is why Death Gods never need marry, for they carry the seed of Life within them. The Lines of Sanzu are the proof that Life dwells always within Death," Mifune concluded.

There was a moment of silence as each of them contemplated the story.

"That's beautiful, but kind of dark," Maka commented.

"The truth often is," Mifune stated grimly.

"The God of the Moon should have been punished," Black*Star stated.

"His punishment is dwelling in eternal madness, forever doomed to see the happiness he tried to destroy. The words 'lunacy' and 'lunatic' both come from his given name, Luna. He lives in eternal dishonor, the blood of his crime on display for all the world to see," Mifune replied.

"I'd never heard that story before. We could use classes in Eastern Mythology, History and Culture. We only teach the Western versions here. Have you ever thought of teaching?" Nygus asked, as she tended to Kid.

"Death the Kid suggested I teach here, and Lord Death seems to approve of the idea," Mifune replied.

"Really?" Nygus asked in surprise. "That's wonderful."

Kid was happy everyone seemed willing to welcome Mifune and Angela. When it was his turn to be tended by Stein, he asked when he could see Liz. He had to ask twice before Stein responded. The Meister seemed unusually pensive, as if he were preoccupied with something. Maybe it was just the number and severity of the injuries he was treating. They hadn't had this many casualties since the war with Asura. It was likely stirring up bad memories.

"Liz is resting now. But she's out of danger. After we're done treating all of you, we'll bring her bed in here, so she can be with you and Patty when she wakes up. None of you are to get out of bed until I approve it," Stein insisted. Then he frowned at the complex ward on Kid's cast. "Is this some sort of healing magic?" he asked mistrustfully.

"It's Healing and Protection," Angela piped up from her bed across the aisle from Kid, where she was propped in a seated position. "I already set the bones in his hand, and used some of my magic to start them healing right, but there was a lot of damage. Charging the ward I made protected him but it's also helping him heal faster. You shouldn't remove the cast for at least two weeks."

"Only two weeks?" Stein asked in surprise.

Angela nodded, even as her hands gently stroked the orange tabby cat in her lap. "Is it alright to use spell magic here? Are there wards against it? I don't have the strength to fight against them if there are, and Marmalade helped save everyone. I need to begin healing him. He lost his littermate and was in despair, but he's agreed to become my familiar."

Stein frowned at her as if he was about to object, but Spirit said, "Lord Death trusts you and is grateful for all you've done for his son, Angela. You can use your healing magic."

"Thank you!" Angela cried in delight, beaming at him. Then she turned her attention to the cat.

"Be careful not to overdo it, Angela," Mifune cautioned.

"I'll be careful," she promised her bodyguard, and then she concentrated on the cat, which was soon bathed in gentle orange light.

Spirit headed over to Kid's bed. "How are you doing, Kid?"

"I'm fine." Kid bit his lip. "Has there been any word from Justin?"

"No, not yet, but he'll be fine. He's stronger than you know," Spirit assured him.

"I don't think you realize how much danger he's in. I need to tell you and my father what Giriko said," Kid said quietly. He didn't want the others to know.

"Do you have an idea where they might be?" Spirit asked hopefully.

"No. But Giriko is obsessed with Justin, in a particularly bad way, and he said some really sick, vile, twisted things. I want to see my father," Kid demanded.

"If Kid uses a wheelchair, is it OK if he leaves here for a bit? Just for a little while. He can speak to his father and then stop in and see Liz on the way back," Spirit suggested.

"Alright. Just don't let him strain himself," Stein reluctantly agreed, still sounding unusually distracted.


	8. Chapter 8 - Confessions: Good for Soul?

**These characters are under copyright by** **Atsushi Ōkubo, Squar Enix, Yen Press, Shōnen,** **  
Akatsuki Yamatoya.** **Madman Entertainment, Manga Entertainment, Funimation,** **and/or others. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.**

 **A/N:  
Caution: Brief mention of the possibility of rape.**

 **Also, FYI, I am using "they" and "their" pronouns for Crona below, due to the character's non-gender specific nature in the original Japanese manga and anime.**

Chapter 8 – Confessions: Good for the Soul?

Lord Death was surprised and concerned to see Spirit pushing a wheelchair containing his son beneath the Guillotine Arches. "What's wrong?" he asked anxiously. Though Kid's face had been washed, his newly shortened hair was uncombed and the overly large white dress shirt and blue jeans he was wearing were still a torn, bloody, dirty mess. It was jarring, seeing Kid look anything less than immaculate.

"I'm fine, Father. This isn't about me, it's about Justin," Kid assured him, intently but calmly, as if he was completely unaware of his current ragged state.

"I told you not to worry, son. Justin Law might still be young, but he's one of the strongest Weapons I've ever seen, and one of the very few people in all our history to be an Autonomous Weapon, to obtain dual Weapon Meister status. That's why I made him head Death Scythe in our European Division," Death assured him.

"But Giriko is a Weapon Meister too, extremely powerful and obsessed with Justin. Father, Giriko doesn't just want to cut or kill Justin. He… when I was Giriko's captive… he said… sexual things and… did things," Kid trailed off, ending in a whisper, unable to meet his eyes, suddenly looking far more pale, looking ill.

Death felt both a wave of cold fear and hot rage burn inside him, at the implications. "What did he do to you?" he demanded.

All the blood left Kid's face as he shrank back from him, and Death silently cursed as he realized he'd unleashed his darker side once again in his son's presence and frightened him, even as Spirit stepped between them, a chastising yet cautious look on his face _. I must look truly terrifying, if even Spirit is unnerved by me again._

"I just arrived. I heard Kid was alive, that he's safe, but injured, and was coming to report to you before going to the Infirmary," a familiar, normally timid voice proclaimed indignantly from behind Spirit. "How can you scare your own son like that? You're always so kind to him, he doesn't know how to deal with you being mean," Crona accused.

"Crona!" Kid cried, excitement and relief in his voice as he peered around Spirit, clearly eager to see his friend. "I hadn't heard any of the details of Justin's capture yet. I was afraid you might have been with him, that you might have been hurt or killed or taken."

"I'm fine. I've been studying with Justin, but we didn't travel together. I should have been with him. Ragnarok and I could have helped protect him," Crona claimed mournfully.

"Like I want to help that smug, pious, jerk," Ragnarok protested, rising up from Crona's shoulder.

"Quiet, Ragnarok! That's a terrible thing to say, especially since Justin's been captured," Crona chastised, their voice firm and confident, instead of quavering.

Lord Death was pleased to see his idea of having Crona study with Justin and some of the others in the European branch had been as fruitful as he had hoped.

Then Crona frowned, looking suspiciously at Kid's cast. "Why do you have wards on…? Oh! Oh, I see. They're Protection and Healing. I've never seen those two wards combined like that before, within a single circle. If they actually work, that's amazing. I only know of one Witch who was skilled enough to do that, and she's dead," Crona said sadly.

"Do you mean the Witch Umbra?" Kid asked, intrigued.

"Yes," Crona said, their eyes widening in surprise. "You don't mean Umbra is still alive, do you? Mother told me Umbra's own sister, the Witch Esmeralda, had killed her." Crona shrank in on themself. "Mother told me family means nothing, if you betray them, that sisters have every right to kill each other, like mothers have every right to kill their children if they ever disobey or disappoint them," they added, in a crushed whisper.

Ragnarok pinched Crona's cheek, making them cry out in pain. Crona raised their hand to their face. "That hurt! Why would you do that?"

"Because you were wilting again. We have a deal, remember? You wilt, I get to pinch you. I still think it's no fair, I swear you agreed I could punch you, not pinch you, but the last time you got so gloomy about me punching you that you wouldn't come out of the corner for days and I was bored out of my mind. Even if it was fun to hit you, it wasn't worth it," Ragnarok grumbled.

"Excuse me, Crona, but Kid and I were having a very important conversation about Justin, before you arrived. I'd like you to…" Lord Death began, needing to hear what Kid had been trying to say, before he'd frightened his son so badly.

"If it's about Justin, I need to hear too," Crona interrupted standing straight again, as if they'd never been cowering.

Kid shook his head, looking appalled. "I can't say any of it in front of you," he claimed, horrified.

Death felt his fear and fury begin to boil again.

"Crona, why don't you get Soul from the Infirmary? He wasn't too badly injured and I think maybe Kid and Soul need to talk alone for a while, and then Soul can tell both you and Lord Death what happened," Spirit suggested. "Would that be alright with you, Kid?" Spirit asked Lord Death's son, ignoring his presence completely.

The look of relief on Kid's face helped calm Lord Death.

"I think I could tell Soul," Kid agreed.

"Where would you like to talk to your friend, Son?" Lord Death asked Kid, needing to show he supported Spirit's initiative.

"At home, in my… in the game room," Kid replied, the hesitation in his voice making Lord Death quietly fret and fume. He could tell Kid had been about to say his bedroom, the place where he'd always felt safest, but he hadn't wanted to be there which meant… He was going to ensure that Giriko's death was as long and painful as he could possibly make it. He was going to use Spirit to skin him alive, the way he'd skinned Asura. The only difference was, Giriko wasn't his son. He wouldn't survive it. But he'd make sure Stein injected him with something to keep him alive as long as possible. That insane Weapon Meister was going to pay for hurting his son.

He didn't realize his shadows had filled the room until he saw Spirit barring the Arches that led to the only exit, save for his viewing mirror. He belatedly realized Crona must have wheeled his son away.

"Sir…?" Spirit asked bravely, guardedly, though his voice was shaking.

"Spirit, you're going to help me kill someone," Lord Death said, not even trying to mask the hatred and rage in his voice.

Spirit kowtowed in front of him. "I live only to serve you, Lord Death," he swore.

Seeing Spirit acting so humble and subservient was almost as jarring as seeing Kid afraid of him. He sighed, heavily, and the shadows dissipated, melting back inside of him, where they belonged. "That will be enough of that. Get up. I think we could both use a cup of tea," Lord Death said wearily.

"Chamomile, Lemon Balm, or Skullcap, sir?" Spirit replied smoothly, as he stood, listing his three favorite calming herbal teas.

"I think we'd better make it a blend of all three," Lord Death replied honestly, as he sat at the table, and tried not to think too much about his son. A line from the play Medea gnawed at his enforced calm. _"People go mad if they think too much."_ He couldn't afford to go mad. The results would be catastrophic.

He sighed again, watching his old friend and trusted Weapon measure out equal portions of the three types of tea leaves and carefully mix them together into a harmonious blend. "You know, Spirit, I know Marie is a great help to Stein, but I hope you realize that you are the one who keeps him sane. I wanted to thank you for that," Lord Death said quietly.

Spirit froze for a moment and then resumed his work. "You're welcome, sir. Stein means a great deal to me. He's a good man. I'd do anything to protect him. I'd do the same for you."

The quiet intensity of his answer enabled Lord Death to say what he'd been thinking. "Thank you for not allowing me to harm anyone, Spirit, for understanding. Forgive me for attacking you earlier, and for frightening you so badly so many times these past two days, including just now."

Spirit had met his gaze after the first few words, and hadn't looked away.

"I've never told him in so many words, but I love Stein, sir. I'd never thought I'd want to partner with anyone else, other than Maka's mother, until I became your chosen Death Scythe, until you wielded me for the first time. Each of you is special to me in a different way, but you're each irreplaceable. Losing Julia and nearly losing Maka because of my divorce was a nightmare. I never could have made it through that without you and Stein. I'll protect you and your son with my life, for as long as I'm able.

"Splitting your soul, so Kid was born before you were dying, unlike all the Reapers before you, was an incredibly compassionate, very human thing for you to do, sir. I know you believe it was worth the risk, and I do, as well, and that the outcome was worth the cost, but I also know that, when you wrestle with your darker side, like Stein, you sometimes lose. That's when you can lean on me, and Stein, and the other Meisters and Weapons here, Lord Death. We're all here to support and protect you, the way your soul encompasses the DWMA and protects us all. I'm pretty sure you realize that, sir, but I just thought I'd tell you anyway," his Weapon said with a sincerity and depth of feeling he'd seldom heard from Spirit before.

"After you visit with me for a while, and once we hear what Soul has to say, you need to spend some quality time with Maka, in the Infirmary, while she's a captive audience. It's time you let your daughter know the real reason you and her mother divorced. Maka is old enough now that she should understand. You've kept up this ridiculous smokescreen of other women to protect Maka long enough, Spirit," Lord Death urged.

"Sir? I don't know what…" Spirit began, but Lord Death cut him off, refusing to hear the lie.

"Your wife was jealous of Stein and of me. She couldn't bear sharing your heart with us. It didn't matter that she was the only one you had a physical relationship with," Lord Death stated firmly.

Spirit opened his mouth and then closed it again, his eyes flooding with pain. He braced himself against the counter, and Lord Death rose, glided over to him, and embraced him.

"I tried to explain, but she…" Spirit began brokenly.

"I know. I wish she understood. But just because she didn't, doesn't mean that Maka won't. It's not fair to you or to your daughter to let her misconception go on any longer. Maka is destined to share something special with Soul, the kind of resonance a Weapon and Meister seldom ever achieve, but her ability to trust him has been damaged by her past. I know you didn't mean to harm her, that you were trying to protect her, with your actions," Lord Death was quick to mollify, when Spirit stiffened.

"But Soul has enough demons to fight, without having to fight Maka's, too. Someday he might yet go Kishin on us, unless he gains that level of resonance with Maka. We can't allow that to happen." Lord Death hated strong-arming Spirit like this, but it was long past time his friend rebuilt the bridge he'd burnt which led to his daughter.

"I will sir. I promise. As soon as we resolve the issue with your own child," Spirit promised.

0 0 0

"I'm sorry, Kid. I've never seen your father so angry before. He reminded me of my mother, but I know he's not usually like that, and I didn't know how to deal with it," Crona apologized, as they stopped to catch their breath, after pushing Kid in the wheelchair to safety.

"I think he thinks something worse happened to me than what did. It's my fault for not being able to talk about it. I'm so stupid, so worthless! He deserves a better son," Kid said self deprecatingly.

"Don't say that! That's not true at all! You're kind and smart and wonderful. It's not your fault parents can be scary sometimes. At least your father is alive and he's usually nice and you're not afraid of him," Crona encouraged, their voice sad and wistful.

That only made Kid feel worse. Crona had never known their father, and their mother had been evil incarnate, and was dead now. Without all of them at the DWMA, Crona wouldn't have anyone.

"Thank you for defending me, even if he didn't mean to upset me," Kid said, not willing to admit that for a few moments he'd actually been afraid of his own father.

"Of course I defended you! What kind of a friend would I be if I didn't?" Crona asked, smiling shyly at him.

Kid felt his heartbeat start to flutter. Something about that shy smile always made him feel that way. Maybe it was because everyone else at the Academy was always so sure of themselves, except for him and Crona. But Maka made Crona smile too, far more than he did, and seeing them together, seeing Crona so relaxed and happy when they were with her, always made him smile too.

Crona's brow crinkled as their gaze focused on Kid's cast. "Who made that for you?" they asked curiously.

"The Witch Angela. I was sent to hunt her and her bodyguard Mifune, for a string of murders, but they weren't actually guilty of the crimes. Angela's evil aunt, the Witch Esmeralda, and Giriko were. Or maybe only Esmeralda. I'm not sure. Angela explained to me that evil Witches can use the souls of human sacrifices to power their spellcasting," Kid said.

Crona's eyes widened in horror and they nodded. "My mother used to do that," they whispered. "Sometimes she'd use my Soul Wavelength to power her spells. That's one of the reasons she bound a Demon Weapon to me, so I'd be more powerful, but also easier for her to control."

"Yeah, and now you just can't bear to be apart from me, can you?" Ragnarok piped up, popping out of their shoulder again.

"Ragnarok! What have I told you about entering private conversations without permission?" Crona asked in annoyance.

"You told me not to. Like I'd ever listen to what you have to say!" Ragnarok scoffed.

"Behave!" Crona commanded, unperturbed.

Kid was happy to see how much stronger Crona had become since they defeated their mother, how much more confident and in control.

"Come on. We need to get you to Soul, so you can speak to him. Unless you'd rather speak to me?" Crona asked, glancing down, the shyness back.

Kid felt his face flush, and he shook his head vehemently. There was no way he could say anything to Crona. It would be hard enough to tell Soul. "You shouldn't have to hear that. It would upset you and that's the last thing I want to do," Kid said earnestly.

Crona bit their lip and nodded. "Alright. Next stop, Soul," they said, and began heading for the Infirmary.


	9. Chapter 9 - Heart to Heart:What Happened

**These characters are under copyright by** **Atsushi Ōkubo, Squar Enix, Yen Press, Shōnen,** **  
Akatsuki Yamatoya.** **Madman Entertainment, Manga Entertainment, Funimation,** **and/or others. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.**

 **A/N:**

 **Caution: Brief mention of the possibility of rape.**

 **Also, FYI, I am using "they" and "their" pronouns for Crona below, due to the character's non-gender specific nature in the original Japanese manga and anime.  
**

Chapter 9 – Heart to Heart: What Happened, Kid?

"Crona! I didn't know you were here!" Maka said excitedly, a warm smile of greeting breaking out across her face like a sunrise, as her friend pushed Kid's wheelchair into the room.

Soul was relieved to see Maka smile at Crona, even as he studied Kid critically. He didn't like what he saw. Kid looked really upset, though he was trying to hide it.

Soul was out of his bed and heading for him before Stein or Nygus could object. "What's going on? What else has happened?" Soul demanded. He knew seeing Crona should have made Kid happy, not upset.

"I need to speak with you. Privately. And then you need to speak with my father," Kid said cryptically, his face flushing.

Soul frowned. _What's going on?_ "Yeah. Sure. Where do you want to go? The roof? Or our house?"

"I was thinking my game room. If you wouldn't mind. I need to be home," Kid urged.

Stein approached, scowling. "You shouldn't be…"

Kid cut him off. "My father ordered it, and I don't think you want to argue with him right now."

To Soul's surprise, a look of concern flashed across Stein's normally impassive face. "He didn't do anything… odd, did he? He's not with anyone, is he?" He sounded more than a little anxious.

"Spirit was able to calm him down, and he's still with him. They're about to drink tea. I don't think they should be disturbed," Kid said.

Stein exhaled in relief. "Spirit's with him? Good. That's good. Alright, you can go, but you need to stay seated, or to lie down, and not just because of your leg – your ribs and arm and other injuries, too. You need to rest to heal. You can sit in a chair or on a couch – it doesn't have to be the wheelchair – but no walking until I say so. If you promise, then I'll let you go."

"I won't overexert myself. I want to see Liz before I go, though. Is that alright?" Kid asked, his voice both hopeful and a little lost.

"Sure. Follow me. As long as while you and Soul talk, Soul rests too," Stein agreed.

"Deal," Soul said, though he'd rest only if he felt like it.

Soul was worried about how Kid tensed up when he saw Liz. Granted, she looked terrible, pale, connected to all kinds of machines, an IV in her arm and tube up her nose, but she looked a hell of a lot better than she had when Patty brought her in: at least she wasn't bleeding her lungs out through her mouth, now. Though under all the bandages on her chest, she'd probably have surgery scars even worse than his scar, now, and for a girl, that would probably suck and… shit. _That's_ why Kid was so upset. Not just that she was messed up, but she'd look even less like Patty now, especially if they wore those short little tops and stuff that they both liked.

"Liz," Kid whispered, reaching for her hand and grasping it with his good hand. "I'm so sorry. I should have protected you better." He sounded completely bereft, devastated.

Then Liz's eyelids fluttered open, and she turned her head towards the sound of his voice. "Kid? Don't be an idiot. I'm the Weapon, remember? I'm the one who protects you," she whispered so hoarsely they could barely understand her.

"You're awake!" Kid cried, leaping up from the chair, and catching himself on the railing of the bed, to keep from falling back down into it.

Soul was tempted to scold Kid, but he didn't want to risk it. He didn't want Kid feeling even worse. Instead, he turned to Liz.

"Take small sips," Soul urged, holding a straw to her mouth from the cup near her bed. He knew what it was like to be sliced open like that and barely able to speak after surgery. Although they'd made him start with ice chips and graduate to water. Maybe she'd already been awake and had the ice before.

She sipped carefully. "Thanks Soul. Are you OK, Kid? Why were you in that chair?"

"It's nothing. I hurt my leg a little, that's all. But I'm fine, and Patty's fine. Everyone's fine," Kid exaggerated.

"I'm fine too," Liz whispered.

"I know, Liz. I can see that," Kid agreed, even as tears started leaking from his eyes and dripping down his face.

 _Crap!_ He hated to see Kid cry. It made him want to punch someone or hug Kid or both.

"Then why are you crying? You hate how you look after you cry. And what happened to your clothes, and your hair?" she asked, frowning.

"Nothing important. You just get some more rest, alright?" Kid urged, wiping the tears from his face with the fingertips of his casted hand. His right hand was still gripping Liz's.

"OK," she agreed fuzzily, her eyes drifting closed. Soul saw her hand go limp in Kid's as she fell asleep.

"She's alright," Kid said, his voice choked, thick with relief and tears.

"Yeah, she's a tough girl, like Maka. She's going to be fine," Soul agreed. "Come on. Let's get you home, so you can change and clean up, and we can talk."

He was even more worried about his friend when Kid nodded wordlessly, instead of going on a rant about his clothes and the way he looked.

When they got to Death's mansion, Soul thought they'd have to ditch the wheelchair to go upstairs to Kid's room, but had no idea how Kid could make it and he wasn't up to carrying him. But then Kid showed him the elevator. He'd been there twice for parties, but hadn't seen the elevator those times.

Kid showed him the way to his room, which looked like he expected it would, everything symmetrical, and insanely neat and tidy. "Do you need help washing or dressing?" Soul asked bluntly, as Kid stood, this time able to keep his footing.

He expected Kid to snap something like, "Not since I was two." It worried him when Kid just shook his head.

"Seriously, are you going to be OK alone in the bathroom?" Soul asked. _He won't do something stupid, like hurt himself, will he?_

"Sorry. I'll be fine. I just… Liz almost died. I almost died. And then the rest of you almost died because of me. I… I'm going to take a sponge bath and wash my hair. I can't shower, because of the bandages and the cast," he explained.

"OK. I'll be right here. Is it OK if I sit in one of the chairs?" Soul asked, not wanting to mess up Kid's precious symmetry.

"Of course. Just please don't move it when you do," Kid said automatically, and then he hung his head and shook it in self-disgust. "It doesn't matter. It's just a chair." He headed for the bathroom.

"Don't you want to pick out new clothes?" Soul asked.

"I'll wear a towel. I don't want to touch them until I'm clean, and the steam would make them damp," Kid explained, his voice lifeless and listless.

"OK," Soul replied. He wanted Kid to hurry up and bathe. He hoped being clean might help. Then he thought it through. "Wait. How are you going to wash your hair, with your cast on, without getting it wet?"

He hated the way Kid wilted. "I don't know," he whispered almost inaudibly.

"Screw this. I'm helping you," Soul said, heading for him. "I'm going to sponge bathe you and wash your hair, and I don't want any arguments."

The look of abject terror on Kid's face made his stomach churn, as Kid backed away from him and shook his head in increasing panic.

"Kid, what's wrong?" Soul demanded.

"You can't see me naked. Not after what he did to me," Kid whispered.

Soul felt like he was going to throw up. _No. Please tell me he didn't hurt Kid like that._ "I don't care what he did. You're still the same Kid on the inside, no matter what he did to your body."

"I'm hideous," Kid whispered, his voice ragged and haunted.

"You're perfect. You're the most perfect person I know. I don't care what he did, there's no way he can change that. I'm going to wash you off, and then you're going to dress, in your clothes or pajamas or a robe, whatever won't hurt you, and then we're going to talk, like you said you needed to, in your game room, not here, but you need to tell me everything that's upsetting you."

Kid nodded, far too complacently.

Soul hated seeing it. Kid had always had a rebellious streak and sense of confidence that he'd admired and been drawn to, even if underneath it all was a crippling lack of self worth. It was like all that surface strength had been stripped away, leaving only the weakness below.

First he'd get Kid cleaned up, and then he'd coax what Kid needed to say out of him. And once Kid was OK again, he was going to hunt down that bastard Giriko and unleash his inner devil on that son of a bitch. He was going to chop him up into tiny pieces, cut him once for every second he'd held Kid captive and messed him up like this.

" _That's it! Revenge is the sweetest music of all,"_ the devil whispered in his head, powerless to do more than that since he'd overcome him, since he'd swallowed him and accepted that he was part of him, that he'd be part of him forever.

He ignored the voice with the ease of long practice, and began helping Kid remove the clothes he'd been wearing, in lieu of his usual suit, a long sleeved white shirt with the seam cut on the left sleeve to allow for the cast, and the right sleeve cut the same way, to match. He was also wearing blue jeans with the cuffs rolled and pinned, instead of black trousers, the clothes apparently borrowed from Mifune, except for the scuffed and battered boots, which looked like his own might have, if a truck had run over them a few dozen times.

It wasn't easy to undress Kid without hurting him, and the last thing Soul wanted to do was cause his friend more pain. He'd never seen so many bandages on one person in his life. He stared in surprise as blue silk boxers were revealed, with white cranes on them, something he couldn't ever imagine Kid normally wearing. Those must have been Mifune's too, and the thought really pissed him off, for some reason. "Underwear on or off?" Soul asked bluntly.

Kid collapsed onto the floor, like a marionette with his strings cut, and then curled into a ball, wrapping his arms clumsily around his legs, the cast preventing him from protecting himself.

Soul's heartbeat skyrocketed. _Shit. Damn it!_ The tenuous, nebulous fears he'd had before crystallized. He wanted to hug Kid, to protect him, but it was clearly far too late for that, and he figured the worst thing he could do was touch him right now, if what he feared was true.

"Talk to me," Soul pleaded, as he sat down a few feet from Kid, not wanting to stand towering over his wounded and emotionally scarred friend.

Kid was trembling, tears were streaming down his face, but he looked angry as well as broken. "I'm sorry I'm so pathetic. I was just thinking, sure, I can take off the boxers, that's the one place he didn't hurt me, but then I remembered, when he was cutting my hair, he threatened to… with his leg, the blades were spinning, and he was pinning me and… he said he'd cut… and then I felt lucky, even grateful, because of what he said he was going to do to Justin but wouldn't do to me yet, because he said he wasn't a pedophile, but then he said he'd come back in a couple of years after he was tired of Justin, and…

"That's what I needed to tell my father, about what he said about Justin, but I just couldn't. Father was already so angry, and he was… He scared me. I've never seen him like that before, I've never been scared of him before, and tonight, when I most needed him to be the way he always is, he wasn't, and…"

Kid's whole body slumped, he just dropped his head down onto to his knees, like he was giving up.

"You got away from that bastard. You lived, and you escaped. That's what you need to remember. You tricked him, you beat him, you frustrated him, you messed up his plans," Soul stressed.

"But I didn't. Mifune rescued me, but he got Justin anyway. And he said… he said he was going to make Justin scream and beg like… like I did…" Kid mumbled so softly in shame that Soul almost couldn't hear him.

Soul almost wished he hadn't. He had to fight the urge to clench his hands into fists, in case it scared Kid. But the thought of Kid screaming, and worse, begging, made him furious.

"He said Justin's calm drives him crazy, that Justin was his prize for helping Esmeralda. He called Justin a Priest and said he was going to… to f… fuck the superior smirk off Justin's face, and he… he was touching himself when he said it. Then he threatened to blind me, when he was cutting off my hair, and when I struggled too much he… he threatened to… to castrate me," Kid said, shaking.

"Then he cut my hair and told me he'd come back and cut off an ear or a finger or something worse. And when I told him my father was going to kill him, that Spirit was going to gorge himself on his soul, he… he laughed in my face and told me to hurry and grow up because he wanted to teach me some manners. He said he wanted to… to teach me to suck, not bark and bite. And then he pretended to attack me, before he left and… and I just… I cowered… and when he left, I started crying! I was so useless! So weak and pathetic and helpless and…"

Kid starting sobbing, he just fell completely apart, and Soul couldn't stand it anymore. He scooted over to him and hugged him, half expecting to be pushed away, almost hoping he would be, because that would mean Kid wasn't completely broken. But instead, Kid burrowed his face against his chest and started crying harder, hysterically, loud, broken, wailing sobs.

"It's going to be OK. We're going to catch him and kill him. He's never going to hurt you or anyone else ever again," Soul swore, as he patted Kid's back, gently, because his back and shoulders were bandaged too. They'd rescue Justin, or avenge him, if they were too late to save him.

Thank Lord Death that Giriko hadn't attacked Kid sexually too. If Kid was this wrecked from his other attacks, he could only imagine how much worse it would have been if he'd been raped by that psychopath. At least Kid was letting him hold him, even though he was all but naked.

If someone had told him earlier in the week he'd be holding a nearly naked Kid in his bathroom, he'd have punched the guy in the face, and then probably gone off to hide, so he wouldn't embarrass himself thinking about it, but he'd never wanted to hold Kid like this. He continued to sooth Kid, telling him over and over that he was safe, holding him and stroking him, doing his best to calm and reassure him. Kid needed to feel safe and Soul needed to know he was.

Finally Kid seemed like he was in control of himself again, all the terror of his ordeal released, at least for now. Soul was certain Kid would probably have some pretty nasty nightmares about it, but he was confident he'd get over his pain and humiliation with enough time and loving support.

"Any time you need someone to hold you, or to listen, just come to me, alright? I don't want you to try and deal with this on your own. I know you're going to try to hide from Liz and Patty how much he hurt you, because you need them to see you as strong, that you need your father to see you that way. But I know how strong you are, how incredible. You don't have to hide what you're feeling from me, alright?" Soul urged.

"Alright," Kid agreed, to Soul's relief.

"How about you sponge bathe and then I'll wash your hair for you, OK? Because just because you're a bit banged up doesn't mean you aren't a little too tempting for me to bathe you," Soul flirted gently, not wanting to say anything that might disgust or frighten Kid, but wanting to let him know how desirable he still was.

From the way Kid's eyes widened and his face flushed, he'd say the interest was most likely mutual. That little devil inside of him made him want to press the point, but he settled for stroking his fingers more lightly against Kid's shoulder blade. The shiver he got in response made his lips quirk in a smile.

He successfully fought the urge to kiss Kid playfully on the tip of his nose, as he drew back. Now wasn't the time or place. Instead he stood, and held out a hand to pull Kid up.

He was gratified when Kid took it and allowed him to help.

"Just call me once you're done sponging off, so I can wash your hair, OK?" Soul urged.

"Alright," Kid agreed again. His eyes were still red from crying and his face tear-streaked, but he didn't look nearly as fragile as he had before.

Soul gave Kid his privacy and went back into the bedroom. They never had made it to the game room for their talk, but at least they hadn't been in Kid's bedroom. He'd be thinking about what happened enough as it was, without having the memory of his confessing to it and crying about it making it all the more real a threat when he was trying to sleep tonight. Assuming he wouldn't be sleeping in the Infirmary.

Soul sat back in the surprisingly comfortable chair, suddenly aware of his own aches and pains again. Sitting on the bathroom floor hadn't exactly helped any, but it had been worth the extra pain, for Kid's sake.


	10. Chapter 10 - Magic Fingers: Are You Sure

**These characters are under copyright by** **Atsushi Ōkubo, Squar Enix, Yen Press, Shōnen,** **  
Akatsuki Yamatoya.** **Madman Entertainment, Manga Entertainment, Funimation,** **and/or others. The song lyrics excerpt below is from** **Tommy heavenly6's "** **Papermoon", which was used** **in the opening of the** _ **Soul Eater**_ **anime from episode 31 to 51 and is copyrighted by him, his recording studio, and/or others.** **This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.**

 **A/N:  
Caution: Brief mention of the possibility of suicide.**

Chapter 10 – Magic Fingers: Are You Sure You Wouldn't Rather Get Dirty Instead?

Kid couldn't believe he'd fallen apart in front of Soul like that. Fortunately, Soul was a good friend, not someone who would broadcast his weakness to everyone in the Academy. He bit his lip, his face flushing, as he realized Soul was maybe a little more than a good friend. He could still feel the gentleness of those tender caresses, especially at the end, when he'd calmed down.

He washed his right hand and left fingertips, thinking about the implications. Liz and Patty were like his sisters, but he hadn't been sure what Soul's and Maka's relationship with one another was. Soul acted like Maka's protective older brother most of the time, but boyfriends acted that way too sometimes, didn't they? He thought so, but he'd never had a boyfriend before.

Kid soaped up a washcloth and began systematically washing his right arm, the spots between the bandages. He was grateful that as a Reaper his wounds would heal a lot faster than a human's and that he wouldn't scar. He worked hard to keep his body looking attractive, to make up for his hair being so terrible. If he ever did have a boyfriend, he wanted his body to look as good as it could for him.

Soul was so incredibly attractive, in a feral kind of way, with his spiky white hair, red eyes and pointed teeth, that sometimes just thinking about him made his heart race. It was amazing how someone so tousled looking, who often wore wrinkled clothes and walked around slouched with his hands in his pockets could appeal to him.

But his appearance wasn't what drew Kid to him the most. It was his loyalty, his compassion and warmth. He was one of the most dependable people Kid had ever met and his aura of calm stabilized him the way only Liz and Patty together could. It was like Soul was the best parts of both of them, Liz's calm reason and Patty's wild, childish enthusiasm rolled into one.

He finished his arms and started washing the few spots on his torso that weren't bound with bandages, grateful that until now, thinking about Soul kept his thoughts from how hideous he looked. He focused on the ward on his cast, the beautiful symmetry of it like the sun shining over a swamp, making the dingy blight on the face of the earth almost bearable.

Kid frowned, remembering Mifune's story about the Laughing Sun and Bleeding Moon. He'd implied that Life and Death had combined into a single being. He'd heard odd rumors before, about Lord Death never having a wife, that he hadn't needed any woman to have a child, and they puzzled him. He'd read enough biology books to know that should be impossible, and also to know that he himself definitely had the genitalia of a male. He pulled down his boxers, stepping out of them, as began soaping his groin.

Did that mean his father was a hermaphrodite? And if so, did that mean, as his son, he was flawed in yet another way? He was determined to ask his father, rather than brood about the possibility. But first, he had to tell him about Justin.

The thought of what Giriko was probably doing to Justin right now made his stomach churn, and he quickly started washing his legs, anxious to be finished. He felt vulnerable, being naked, even here, safely in his own bathroom, even though Soul was right outside the door. _It's not as if Giriko can…_

His eyes flew to the full length mirror on the right in terror. _What if he can see me? What if he can travel through the mirror and…_

He ran for the bathroom door, flung it open, and ran into his bedroom.

Soul leapt up from the chair. "Kid! What's…?"

 _The mirrors! I just left them there! I'm so stupid!_ "The mirrors! Break them! You have to break them!" Kid begged, too terrified to go back inside and break them himself.

Soul ran into the bathroom and Kid heard the shattering of glass, over the ragged sound of his own breathing, not just three times, one for each, but nearly a dozen times, as Soul struck the mirrors repeatedly. Then he emerged. "I smashed them. What happened? Did you see someone, did they try to attack you?" he asked, concerned.

Kid's eyes widened in horror. "Your hand!"

Soul looked down at his bleeding knuckles. "Yeah. I guess I should have wrapped it in a towel or something, but I didn't really think of that until after the first hit, and I needed to be fast," he said with a shrug. "I'm fine, but are you OK?"

"I…" _I was scared of my own mirrors. I ran out here naked and screaming for help. I made Soul hurt himself._ Kid grabbed his hair in his hands, barely able to grasp it, because it was so short and the cast hampered his grip. "I'm such worthless, useless garbage!"

"Hey, stop that! That's not true and you know it!" Soul demanded, striding up to him. "Don't make me hug you again, when you're naked, because I don't want to freak you out any more than you already are," Soul threatened.

"I don't blame you for not wanting to touch me. I'm so disgusting, you…" Kid gasped as Soul strode up and hugged him.

"You didn't hear what I said, idiot. It's not that I don't want to touch you. It's that holding you while you're naked is… ah crap. I'm sorry. I warned you this might happen," Soul grumbled as he shifted back in a weird way, not letting go, but bent over, so he was still holding him but his legs and groin weren't…

"Oh," Kid said dumbly, his face flushing hotly, as he belatedly realized what Soul meant.

"Oh? Really? That's it? That's all you've got to say?" Soul asked, sounding part teasing, part exasperated, maybe even embarrassed.

"You have an erection," Kid clarified, and then wished he was leaning against a wall instead of Soul, so he could bash his forehead against it.

But then Soul started chuckling, and then laughing, in that wonderful, carefree, crazy way he had, that always made Kid think life wasn't nearly as bad as he believed it to be.

"I asked for it, didn't I?" Soul said, pulling back, and flashing that devilish grin of his, the one that always made Kid's heart race.

"I… um… need to finish washing up," Kid said awkwardly.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather get dirty instead?" Soul suggested, but wagging his eyebrows suggestively, so Kid could take the suggestion as a joke if he wanted to.

Kid's breath hitched and then he replied, before he could think too much and talk himself out of it. "Can you ask me that same question a couple of weeks from now, when the cast comes off and everything else is healed?" Kid asked hopefully.

Soul froze, the look of shock on his face almost comical, if it weren't for the seriousness of the question. Then his lips broke into a slow, easy grin. "Yeah. I can definitely ask again," he assured him.

"OK. Good. That's good." Kid headed for the bathroom and then froze. There was broken glass everywhere, from the shattered mirrors. He blinked, momentarily stunned by the chaos he'd caused in the normally pristine and tidy world of his inner sanctum.

"Careful, you don't want to cut your feet. How about you use a guest bathroom or something to finish washing up, while I clean this up for you?" Soul suggested.

"The frames. There's still glass in the frames," Kid argued, staring at it in horror, at the jagged asymmetry.

"I'll take off the medicine cabinet door and get the glass out of the two floor length mirror frames," Soul assured him. "I mean, if it's safe now. What did you see?"

Kid blushed. "I didn't. I was just thinking G… that person could be watching, or even travel through them, and…" He trailed off in humiliation.

"Oh. So how about I go with you, cover the mirrors in whatever bathroom you're going to use, with a towel or something, so you know you're safe, and then come back here to clean up?" Soul suggested placidly, as if his fear wasn't completely paranoid and irrational.

"Thank you," Kid said simply, grateful all over again for Soul being with him. Knowing his luck, he might have cut his own wrists, trying to smash the mirrors, and his father and Stein might have thought he'd done so deliberately. As if he'd ever kill himself in such a messy way.

0 0 0

Soul surveyed Kid's bathroom walls critically. Fortunately, the screws that had been holding the mirrors in place had all been set into the walls symmetrically. Kid himself had likely seen to that. The empty frames and exposed screws weren't pretty, but they were at least balanced. The medicine cabinet door proved to be a bigger challenge. He'd had to remove the hinges on the left and the clasp on the right that the mirror itself had hidden, and then hide what had been inside the cabinet, because it had all fallen over when he smashed the mirror.

At least his heart had stopped hammering, from his earlier fear for Kid. He didn't ever want to see a look of terror like that on Kid's face again, even if the aftermath had been kind of great. _"Can you ask me that same question a couple of weeks from now, when the cast comes off and everything else is healed?" Holy crap!_

Soul picked up the deodorant, shampoo and conditioner he'd salvaged before hiding the remainder of the collection of bottles in the back of Kid's closet. He'd have to remember to confess to that later. Now he had a certain Reaper's hair to wash.

He glared down at his groin. "Stop that. Only the hands get to play, and that's in Kid's hair, and there's no way that he'd ever let me…" Soul grinned as a wicked thought crossed his mind. "I could always tell him I wanted to give him stripes on the other side, to match, right?" He headed for Kid's door, laughing at the look Kid would give him if he said something so outrageous.

Then he stopped laughing. Although he might say something completely different. After all, he hadn't expected that "ask me again" line. _Evans, you idiot! Stop thinking about that!_

He sighed when he entered the other bathroom and saw Kid struggling to hang a towel neatly enough over the mirror to satisfy his need for symmetry.

"How about…" Soul began, jumping, when Kid jumped and spun, his eyes wide with terror.

"Crap! I'm sorry. I'm an idiot. I didn't realize you didn't hear or see me come in. I was just going to suggest I stand guard in here instead, while you finished bathing, so you don't have to spend the next six hours trying to hang the towel perfectly."

Soul cringed when Kid hung his head in shame.

"Damn it! I didn't mean it like that. I just meant… Let me protect you, OK? You're safe with me here. Just calm down, clean up, and let me wash your hair. Come on, you'll enjoy it. I wash Maka's all the time, and she says it really relaxes her," Soul assured him.

Kid looked up at him, speculation and was that… disappointment… in his eyes? "You wash Maka's hair?

Soul's eyes widened. "Crap. I'm not supposed to tell anyone. She's afraid her father will overhear and get the wrong impression about us. We're just buddies, you know? But people keep thinking we're together, because we're close. But she's like Liz and Patty are to you. She's like a sister to me."

"I don't wash Liz's and Patty's hair," Kid commented, eying him curiously now.

"Yeah, well, I didn't used to wash Maka's either, until the day Black*Star was showing off, trying to prove to everyone that he could blow a bigger bubble than anyone else, because he was a God, and it popped all over both of them, and he got gum all over her hair. I caught her ready to hack it off with scissors, before I showed her she just needed to use peanut butter to get the gum out and…"

"You washed her hair in peanut butter?" Kid asked, appalled.

"No. I cleaned the gum out with peanut butter, and then washed the peanut butter out for her, because she was so upset. I remembered how relaxing it was, back when I was little, this one time when my grandmother washed my hair. And it really did relax her, I've never seen her calm down so fast. And the next time she was angry about something, she just blurted out, 'Can you wash my hair?' And well, after that, it kind of became a thing we do, whenever she needs to calm down. Anytime she needs it now, all she has to do is call me Spa Guy, and I know what she needs."

"That's amazing. That you help her like that. Not that Liz and Patty don't help me, because they do, all the time. I'd be a total mess, if it wasn't for them. But just… that's really sweet," Kid said, smiling at him.

And suddenly Soul's heartbeat was spiking like he was under attack, he was getting that same awesome adrenaline rush he loved, but just from seeing Kid smile. _Stay cool, Evans. You can do this._ "So, how about I be your Spa Guy for today?" he asked, with a smile.

"Alright. Sure," Kid agreed, clearly a lot more relaxed about the idea now that Soul had told him about Maka.

 _Maka. I hope she doesn't kill me for telling him. Although no one needs to know I washed Kid's hair, either, right?_

"So you wash it in the sink? I can't see that being very relaxing," Kid asked skeptically.

"No, we use the bed," Soul replied, as he set down the care products he was carrying.

Kid eyed him askance. "The bed?"

"Yeah. We don't have one of those salon chair sinks or anything, so instead, she lies on the bed, with a waterproof cushion under her neck to support it, and I have a basin in my lap, and… Just trust me, OK?" Soul urged.

"With my life," Kid replied, and then he blushed.

"Yeah, well, I'll try not to drown you, then," Soul kidded, to lighten the atmosphere a little. "So after you're cleaned up, do you have a robe or something you can wear? It'll be more relaxing that way, and you won't get your clothes wet.

Kid pointed to a black robe with a white skull hanging from a hook on the back of the door. "All the guest bedrooms have one," he explained and then winced.

"I call that practical," Soul stated, not giving Kid the opportunity to get down on himself for needing even their guest rooms to be symmetrical with one another.

Kid nodded in agreement and began soaping himself off, reminding Soul all over again that Kid was naked. He'd been focused on his face before, but he couldn't help letting his eyes stray, even as he dutifully watched the mirrors for other perverts. _Not that you're a pervert,_ Soul assured himself.

" _Sure you're not. So I guess you're expecting a chainsaw wielding maniac is going to come out of Kid's ass?"_ the devil in his head commented.

Soul quickly looked back at the mirror, trying not to think of smooth, white skin and lean muscles and... _This is a lot harder than I thought it would be,_ Soul silently groaned.

" _Harder, huh Evans?"_ the devil smirked.

Soul had to fight the urge to punch himself in the head. Instead he started humming, knowing it annoyed the devil inside him whenever he made any kind of music other than playing the piano in his head. He was distracted enough that it took a few moments for him to realize Kid was staring at him. "What? Did I do something weird?" Soul asked.

"You were singing. I liked it. I was just listening, trying to place it, but I don't think I've ever heard that song before," Kid claimed.

Soul frowned. _I was singing? I thought I was only humming. What was I singing?_

"What's it called? Who's it by?" Kid asked, intrigued.

 _Crap._ "Um, to be honest, I was just humming and thinking and I didn't realize I was singing, so I don't have any idea," Soul admitted sheepishly.

To his surprise, Kid started to sing, in a smooth, melodic tenor that suited him perfectly: 

"You are my everything, the reason that I live in sweet captivity so faithfully  
And I swear you'll never be alone. When you're lost here I am  
Forever with your soul  
We can make it through most anything, if you can just believe."

Soul felt his face flush with heat. "I sang that?" he asked in wonder.

"Oh. So I guess it didn't mean anything," Kid said, the sparkle leaving his golden eyes, his voice sounding dejected.

"No! Of course it meant something! I _hate_ singing, because of my family, so every time I do, it means something really important. I only sing when my feelings are too strong for spoken words," Soul insisted in an anxious rush. And then his eyes widened in shock at the implications, as he played the words back in his head. He recognized them now. They were from "Papermoon".

"So then what do those words mean to you?" Kid challenged, folding his arms in front of his bare chest, looking all the more vulnerable for it.

"They mean that I care about you even more than I consciously realized, which is kind of amazing, because I thought I already knew how important you were to me," Soul admitted honestly.

Kid's eyes widened and his arms dropped down to his sides, his defensive stance vanished. "Oh. Alright then." He headed for the robe on the back of the door and slipped it on. "Then I think it's time we use the bed. I mean both of us. I mean to wash my hair," Kid explained, tripping over his words.

"Has anyone ever told you that you're cute when you're flustered?" Soul asked, with a growing grin.

"My father," Kid muttered, and then he blushed fiercely.

"Well then. It's high time someone else told you. You're cute when you're flustered, Kid. And you're pretty much adorable the rest of the time, as well as one of the coolest people I know. So why don't you hop onto the bed, and we'll see if my magic fingers please you as much as they please Maka," Soul teased, wagging his eyebrows suggestively and wiggling his fingers.

"Permission to break every one of Soul's magic fingers?" Spirit's voice said coldly from behind them.

"Not if I get to him first," Lord Death threatened, suddenly in the bathroom behind them.

"Crap. Wait! That wasn't what it sounded like! I was just going to wash Kid's hair!" Soul proclaimed his innocence, realizing how doomed he was the moment he finished. He would have broken his fingers, if this was Maka and someone else had said a lame line like that.

Fortunately, Kid stepped protectively between the two angry parents and Soul, and thankfully he was wearing the robe now. Soul didn't want to even think about what would have happened if Kid had still been naked.

"In spite of how that sounded, Soul really is just going to wash my hair, like he washes Maka's, only you can't let her know that you know that," Kid said calmly. "Soul isn't doing anything wrong father. He's been helping me."

"Why does it look like Soul's been hitting someone?" Lord Death asked, his voice dangerously deep.

"I asked him to break the mirrors in my room, because I thought G… Giriko might spy on me or attack me using them. That's why he's in here with me. He's guarding me. And he was going to wash my hair, because I can't, because of my cast. I was just washing up, so I could change. He's just being a good friend. And Maka's like a sister to him. He would never do anything disrespectful to her," Kid defended.

"Why are your eyes red, like you've been crying?" Death asked suspiciously, but sounding more calm, more gentle, more like his usual safe.

"Because I was. Not because of Soul, but because of what happened to me. And no, Father, Giriko didn't… he didn't rape me. But that's what he told me he was going to do to Justin. I was too afraid and too upset to tell you that before, but telling Soul and letting out all that fear really helped," Kid explained, his voice only breaking once, and this time without stuttering on Giriko's name.

"Oh. I guess that explains everything we saw and heard, although I'm still confused about the hair washing part," Death said.

"Soul helped Maka wash gum out of her hair once, and it really calmed her down and relaxed her, so Soul washes her hair for her sometimes, when she's upset. But that's supposed to be just private, between the two of them. Soul only told me because I was such a wreck, and he was hoping it might calm me, too. But I'm alright now. So if you'll help me with my hair, Father, Soul and Spirit can go. As long as you understand, Spirit, that Soul would never hurt Maka in any way."

Spirit nodded. "I do. It just sounded… but OK. Come on, Soul. Lord Death could use some time with Kid."

Soul was surprised by the urgency, almost pleading, in Spirit's eyes. He looked exhausted, completely frazzled. He realized Spirit was the one who had calmed Lord Death down ever since Kid disappeared, and he'd nearly been choked to death at least once. He obviously needed some time away from Lord Death, but only if he was with someone who could safely keep him calm, someone like Kid.

"Sure. Stein probably wants me back in the Infirmary anyway, and there's no way I'm leaving Maka there and going home without her."

"Thank you for being such a good friend to Maka. Actually, I'm going to ask that Stein allow me to bring her back to your home. She and I need to talk. And I'd like you there too, Soul, not in the room, but in the house, because she's going to need to talk to you after she's done talking to me."

Soul frowned, worried. "Did something happen to her mom?"

"Yes, a long time ago. I'm going to tell Maka the real reason her mom and I aren't together anymore," Spirit said, sounding infinitely weary. "It's up to Maka to tell you, if she chooses to. I just want you to know that every word I tell her is the truth, and she can speak to both Lord Death and Stein to verify that. I know she'll need to. I don't expect her to believe me, considering I've been lying to her all these years. It was for her sake, and her mother's, but I'm afraid I'm about to shake the foundations of her world view," Spirit said with a heavy sigh.

"He's telling the truth, Soul. He was doing his best to try to fix a bad situation, but Maka is old enough now to learn the truth. She's a strong young lady, with strong friends. She'll be fine," Death assured him.

"I just want you, at least, to know how much I love her and want her to be happy. I actually thought that would be with you, but I guess that's not the case," Spirit told Soul.

"When you say 'happy', you mean relationship happy?" Soul asked cautiously.

"Exactly," Spirit said.

"Well, after you clear the air with her, maybe she'll tell you who that person actually is, because there is someone. Just not me," Soul stated truthfully, because it wasn't his place to tell Maka's father about her and Crona.

He could see Spirit was intrigued, but he merely nodded, and waved him towards the door.

"Thank you, Spirit, for everything. Not just for tonight, for yesterday, but for all the years you've served me so faithfully. And good luck," Death told him.

"Thank you, sir. I'll need it," Spirit said, with a rueful smile, and then they left.


	11. Chapter 11 - Secrets and Lies: What Are

**These characters are under copyright by** **Atsushi Ōkubo, Squar Enix, Yen Press, Shōnen,** **  
Akatsuki Yamatoya.** **Madman Entertainment, Manga Entertainment, Funimation,** **and/or others. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.**

Chapter 11 – Secrets and Lies: What Are You Hiding, Spirit?

Maka frowned as her father entered the Infirmary again, this time with Soul in tow. She was about to tell her father to leave her alone, when he headed for her bed, until she saw the grave looks on both his and Soul's faces.

"Oh Lord Death. Has something happened to Kid?" she demanded anxiously.

"No, sweetie, nothing like that. Kid is fine, and no, there hasn't been any word about Justin. But I need to talk to you about something. I'd like to come home with you and Soul," her father said.

She crossed her arms and glared at him. "I'm not going anywhere with you. You've seen I'm alive. You can go back to ignoring me now. I'm sure there are a couple of dozen other 'young ladies' that are eager for your attention," she snapped acidly.

To her surprise, Soul frowned at her. "Maka, you need to let him come home with us. This is something important."

 _Why isn't Soul on my side?_ She looked around for an alternate ally. "Dr. Stein? I shouldn't leave the Infirmary tonight, right?" she asked, as he reentered the room.

He frowned. "No, you need to rest here for at least a day and preferably three."

"Told you," Maka said smugly, wincing at how childish she sounded, and at the ridiculous urge to stick her tongue out at her father.

"Stein, Lord Death has authorized Maka and Soul to rest in their own home, unless there's a medical reason they can't. Maka and I need to talk about a serious matter, one that's long overdue. It's past time she learns the truth," her father stated cryptically.

Maka swallowed at the way Dr. Stein went still, the shadowed look that flitted through his eyes. There was fury there, chilling hatred, and then it was gone, as if it had never been. "The whole truth, or the version Lord Death believes?" he challenged.

Her father turned a pleading look on Stein, sharing some kind of secret message.

"So you finally agree she's ready? Good. Maka, Soul, you're both released. You're to go home with Spirit as your guardian, to ensure you reach there safely, and to protect you as long as he feels it is necessary. Good luck, Spirit," Stein said emotionlessly.

"I thought you don't believe in luck," her father said sardonically, with a weak smile, the kind he always made when he was desperately trying to get her to believe his latest lie, about how much he loved her and her mother.

"I don't, but you do. And after all these years, I think you're entitled to some good luck, for a change. The world is all about balance and imbalance. It's past time the balance in your life is restored. We weren't all born to be askew," Stein claimed.

"How about you follow your own advice and buy Marie a drink, once you finish up here. I'll see you in the morning, Meister o' mine," Spirit said, and then he winced, as if in physical pain, as he looked at Stein.

Maka turned, but she couldn't see anything different about him.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to say that," her father said, his voice strangely gravelly.

"Of course you didn't. It's fine," Stein said, in an impassive voice, as he turned away.

Maka had the distinct feeling it was anything but fine. _What in the world is going on?_

0 0 0

It was ridiculous how, after all these years, just a few words from Spirit could still turn his neatly stitched world back into shards of broken glass so easily. _When will I ever learn?_

 _So tonight, Spirit's going to tell Maka part of the truth, the half truth Lord Death believes. The only ones who know the full truth are me, Spirit, though he never believed it, and that bitch Julia. I think it's long past time I narrow the field down to just one. How convenient that she's back in Death City, though I doubt she bothered to let either Spirit or Maka know. But none of that will matter, after tonight._

"Nygus, you can take it from here. Yesterday and today were both supposed to be my days off. I have plans," Stein said, heading for the door, his madness howling to be released. It was time to give it what it wanted, what it always wanted: blood and death. But before he visited Julia, he needed to pick up a certain little present the Witch Medusa had so graciously provided.

0 0 0

Soul couldn't help but notice Spirit was walking slower and slower, as he approached their house, and it wasn't for Maka's sake. She was plunging on ahead, obviously anxious to get this over with.

"What's wrong? Second thoughts?" Soul prodded.

Spirit turned and looked at him guiltily. "Yeah. But not the kind you're thinking. I told myself I was going to tell Maka the truth, but I'd still be lying to her, the way I've been lying to Lord Death all these years."

Soul's eyes widened in surprise. "Why would you lie to Lord Death? You're his Death Scythe."

Spirit closed his eyes, then opened them again, and Soul wondered what he hadn't wanted him to see in them.

"Yes. Yes, I am. But I was Stein's Weapon first." Spirit turned back to face Maka. "Maka, honey, I know you won't understand, and I know it's just going to make you hate me more, but I can't speak to you yet. I need to tell Lord Death something first."

Maka spun around, a look of fury on her face, but before she could say anything, Spirit continued. "He's been… unpredictable… lately, and I'm afraid I might upset him with this. If… if I don't come back, I want you to know I've always loved you, and I never once betrayed your mother. I betrayed you. It was for the best of reasons, the best of intentions, but the road to Lord Death is paved with good intentions."

Maka was staring at him, eyes wide in confusion, and then narrowed in anger and hurt. "Wait. What are you talking about? What do you mean you didn't betray her, you betrayed me? What do you mean, not come back? Are you running away again? For good this time? Well fine! Go! I don't need you anyway! You never loved me! You don't know how to love!"

Spirit wordlessly turned to go and Soul stared. Something in Spirit's eyes had shattered, and twin tears were streaking down his face. "No, Maka. The problem is I do," Spirit whispered. He looked up into Soul's eyes. "Don't ever hurt Kid, Soul." Then he ran, heading towards Death Mansion.

"Don't you run away from me! You coward! You womanizing bastard! You're a pathetic excuse for a father!" Maka screamed after him, furious, but Soul could tell she was fighting not to cry herself.

"Maka, stop it! He's hurting enough without you screaming at him," Soul scolded, thinking about everything he'd seen and heard. Spirit had said Lord Death was unpredictable, but it went far beyond that. Lord Death had been acting completely unstable; he'd lost control. He'd already tried to kill Spirit once, and when he'd come to rescue Kid, he'd looked even more terrifying, like he was about to kill everyone he saw, until Kid calmed him down. Which meant the reason Spirit might not come back… "Shit! We have to stop him. That idiot is going to get himself killed!"

"What? What are you talking about?" Maka demanded. "If anyone's going to kill him, it's going to be me!" she snapped, but with a flicker of worry in her eyes.

"You were still unconscious when Lord Death came to rescue Kid. He was like in the Death Room, only worse. If Kid hadn't calmed him down, Lord Death could have killed all of us. He was acting like the Kishin," Soul explained.

He saw the anger change to skepticism and then shock. "Wait. Are you trying to tell me that whatever my father plans to tell Lord Death could…? But he's Lord Death's Death Scythe! He'd never hurt my… He was choking him," she whispered. "And when he stopped, and my father stepped between him and us, and told us to go, I thought he was just being melodramatic, trying to look heroic, but… You mean we were really in danger? From Lord Death?"

Soul knew Maka idolized Lord Death, but he hadn't realized she'd actually discounted what she'd seen, that she hadn't believed her own eyes. "Yeah. Come on. We have to keep him from getting… Damn it. We'll never catch up. Neither of us can run right now." Then his eyes lit with inspiration, and he took out Nygus's mirror and Patty's eyeliner pencil, which he'd found lying in the street after the battle, and wrote on the mirror with it, 42-42-564 and recited the familiar chant. "42-42-564, whenever you want to knock on Death's door."

"Yes? Oh! Soul. I think this might be for you, Kid," Lord Death said, a smile in his voice.

Perfect. He'd planned to ask for Kid, to speak to both of them together.

"Soul?" Kid asked.

"Kid, listen. We're on our way, but we can't make it to you in time. Spirit is on his way to see your father. You can't let him talk to him. It would be really dangerous," Soul swore.

Kid frowned. "Spirit plans to hurt my father?" he asked in disbelief.

"No. Just the opposite. Spirit's planning to tell your father something that is going to upset him a lot. You have to keep them apart until Maka and I can talk to him. Convince your father to go to the Death Room until… No. To go somewhere without a mirror, because if he's watching, and hears… Please, Kid. Just trust me," Soul urged.

Kid's puzzled frown turned to a look of pure faith. "With my life," he swore, echoing what he'd said earlier.

Soul exhaled in relief. "Thanks."

"Father, you heard. You need to leave," Kid said firmly.

"Very well. But I expect you to tell me what all this is about, Son," Lord Death said.

"I will, Father. Whatever I can, as soon as I learn it. I promise," Kid swore.

"We're on our way. Thanks, Kid. Thank you, Lord Death," Soul said sincerely. He smudged the numbers on the mirror with his finger, breaking the connection. "Come on, Maka. We need to find out what this is about."

0 0 0

"I'm sorry, Spirit. My father is no longer here," Kid told his father's Death Scythe, greeting him at the front door when he rang the bell.

"Oh. Where is he?" Spirit asked, looking like a man who'd been given a moment's reprieve from the headsman's ax, while he sharpened his blade.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that. And don't bother to try calling him. He promised me not to answer, until I talked to him first," Kid replied, folding his arms, over his chest, the effect spoiled by the cast, though at least he was properly dressed now, in a short sleeved white dress shirt, the left arm of which had barely fit over the cast, and a pair of black dress slacks, and polished boots. His eyes fell to the ward, and his unease at his appearance vanished.

Spirit frowned. "Why would…? Soul. He called Lord Death, didn't he?" he exclaimed, with sudden insight.

"Yes. What's going on, Spirit? Why is Soul afraid to let you speak to my father? He said it was to protect you, not my father. What have you done? Are you going to confess some kind of crime or betrayal?" Kid pressed. He hadn't promised Soul not to find out what was going on before he got there with Maka.

From the look of pain in Spirit's eyes, Kid could tell he'd guessed correctly.

"What did you do, Spirit?"

Spirit exhaled heavily and looked Kid in the eye. "I betrayed the people I love most. That's all I can tell you. I need to talk to your father, Kid. I don't know how he'll feel, after I do. I don't know if he'll hate me, if he'll understand, if he'll forgive me for lying to him all these years, but I need to tell him the truth. To tell them. Everyone who's involved. I know I probably won't be your father's Death Scythe anymore, but I don't care. He can't have a Weapon he can't trust. I never should have been his Weapon in the first place."

Kid knew Spirit was one of the youngest Weapons ever to achieve his status as Lord Death's Death Scythe, but at the moment, he looked old, worn and weary, like every bad thing that had ever happened in his life had come crashing down onto him in an instant.

"Please, Kid. I need to talk to him, alone, now," Spirit urged.

"I promised my father I'd tell him what this was about as soon as I learned, but I can see I won't learn anything. I told Soul I trusted him, but I didn't promise him I'd keep you away from Father, and I trust you too, Spirit. Come with me. Father's in my bathroom, where there aren't any mirrors. You can talk there, you can use my room. I'll make sure Soul and Kid don't disturb you."

Spirit sagged in relief. "Thank you, Kid. And promise me something, OK? If this doesn't go well, don't blame your father for what happens. But most importantly, don't let this get between you and Soul, alright? The last thing I want to do is mess things up for someone else, when I'm trying to fix them."

Kid looked him in the eye and said with quiet conviction, "My father would never hurt you, Spirit. But I promise. I won't let anyone or anything come between me and Soul."

"Good. You're a lot smarter than I ever was, Kid. You're going to make a great Lord Death someday, but hopefully many, many years from now."

Kid led Spirit up the elevator, and then down the hall to his room. He knocked on the closed door. "Father, it's me. There's been a change in plans. I've brought Spirit to talk to you."

The door opened. "I see. Come in, Spirit. Thank you, Son. I'll speak to you later."

"Alright Father. Please, no matter what he tells you, remember I love you and I'm here for you. And whether she realizes it or not, Maka loves her father, and he's a good man, a good Weapon. I can see it's taking him a lot of courage to speak with you like this. Hear him out and don't do anything rash. Like you've always told me, there's more than one answer to every problem, and sometimes when bad things happen, it's for good reasons, it's necessary in some way," Kid said, reluctant to leave the two of them alone, in spite of what he'd told Spirit.

"Thank you, Kid. I'll see you later, once Spirit and I talk."

"I'll be resting in the guest room I was using before," Kid replied. Then he closed the door, leaving Reaper and Death Scythe alone together, hoping he wasn't making a grave mistake.

0 0 0

"You have something to tell me, Spirit?" Lord Death asked softly.

"I do. But first, I have a request. Can you take your mask off for me? Please? I need to see your face," Spirit asked hopefully.

"Why?" Lord Death asked curiously.

"Because it might be the last chance I have to look at you," Spirit replied honestly.

"Why?" Lord Death prodded, his voice more cautious than curious now.

"Because I've been lying to you for years, because I was afraid of hurting you, but I can't keep lying to you, and I'm not sure you'll ever want to see me again, once I tell you the truth," Spirit told him.

Without another word, Death removed his mask. It had been so long since Spirit had seen Death's face, years, but it hadn't changed at all. Spirit drank in every feature, from his black and white hair to his blood red eyes, to every nuance of his face. He looked like Kid might, in his prime, if he were wearing red contact lenses. No, the lines of Kid's face were softer, the striking bone structure less pronounced on Kid. Kid was handsome, but Death was breathtaking.

"Does it look right? I haven't made this face for you in years," Death asked, almost shyly.

Spirit's breath caught. He'd never asked in so many words, but Death had told him more than once that not only his soul but his body was linked to Death City. In a sense, he _was_ Death City.

"So, is this what you used to look like, before you made Death City? Or just something you created? Because Kid looks a lot like you," Spirit asked.

"Of course he does! He's a handsome fellow, after all, a chip off the old block!" Death replied goofily, flexing the muscles on the arms that suddenly appeared at his side.

"Death, I'm serious," Spirit scolded, both hurt and annoyed by Death's childish display.

Death immediately stopped hamming. "I'm sorry, Spirit. But acting that way is part of what keeps the Madness Wavelength at bay, and as you've seen, it hasn't been easy for me to control it these past couple of days. In answer to your question, I used to look like this, hundreds of years ago, when I was first formed from my father. Kid looks a little different, because he was formed from only a fragment of my soul, not my entire soul, the way I was formed."

"So when you told me, years ago, that it would be odd to have a physical relationship with me, because you couldn't always be who I expected or needed you to be, that was what you meant?" Spirit asked.

Death looked surprised. "Of course. I thought you understood that…" He frowned and then a look of compassion and understanding flashed across his perfect face. "Is that what this is about? The feelings you have for me?"

Spirit nodded. "But not only for you. It's about Stein. And Julia."

"You love us, but not each in the same way," Death said knowingly, without hesitation.

"I love all of you. But exactly in the same way," Spirit corrected.

"But you've only had a physical relationship with your wife. Of the three of us, I mean. Because there are those other women. I never understood that, Spirit, how someone like you, who loves so deeply, could hurt someone he loved," Death scolded.

It was an old argument, one that had never been resolved, because it was steeped in fallacies and lies.

"Stein and I partnered our first day at the Academy. While all the other Meisters and Weapons were zeroing in on who they thought looked the strongest, or the coolest, he and I both slipped into the shadows of the tower and watched the rest of them interact. We didn't even notice each other, at first, we were both so quiet." Spirit paused, remembering how awkward he'd felt, how out of place. He'd been ready to run, to just give up. There was no way he'd ever be as cool as any of the kids he saw.

"That's when you first caught my eye. You were so beautiful, and so oblivious to your own beauty. I remember thinking, 'His hair is the color of my eyes.' I know, that was vain of me, but I've always been vain. Unlike you." Death admitted.

Spirit started in surprise, drawn back from the images of the past in his head to the present. "Really? You never told me that. About my hair and your eyes, I mean. I've always known you were vain," he said with a teasing smile.

He heard a gasp and then an exhalation like a sigh. "You're still beautiful. You just made me breathe again, for a moment. I'd forgotten what that felt like, to have lungs that aren't made of stone."

Spirit shook his head at his folly. "I've been so stupid, all these years. You're so human, I forget you're a God. Although that's the problem, you _are_ so human. I know you can be hurt, emotionally I mean, and you're one of the last people I ever wanted to hurt." He sighed heavily. "But I've always excelled at hurting the people I love most, the ones I most want to protect."

"Maka," Death said knowingly.

"Stein, you, Maka. Take your pick," Spirit said sadly.

"Not Julia?" Death asked in surprise.

"Not in the same way, no," Stein replied.

"I'm not certain what you're saying, Spirit," Death said, sounding confused and a little frustrated.

"Do you remember when you taught me and Stein resonance? How you taught us?" Spirit asked.

"Of course. You were the only two students in the class who couldn't seem to get it right, which made no sense, since of all of them, the two of you were the most perfectly in synch, the most perfectly matched Weapon and Meister I'd ever seen. So I resonated with you, so you could feel what it was meant to feel like, firsthand," Death replied.

"That's right. You resonated with us both. The three of us were joined as one in that moment. It was like nothing I'd ever felt before. I'd always felt awkward and out of place, but you were a God, you were perfect, and Stein, he was just amazing, and with the two of you, it was like I was someone special too. I'd never felt so accepted, felt such belonging, such… love. That was the moment. The moment I fell in love with you both," Spirit admitted bravely.

"I know. I felt it," Death said, his voice uncharacteristically tender.

"How did you feel it? Did you feel my love for you, or did you love us, too?" Spirit asked, looking into Death's crimson eyes, voicing the question he'd never before dared to ask, because the answer would have hurt too much, regardless of what it was.

"I love all my Weapons and Meisters, all my students equally," Death replied.

Spirit dropped his gaze, his head falling forward until his chin rested against his breastbone. He'd thought he was ready to hear the truth, but he sadly realized that wasn't the truth he'd been expecting to hear.

He was shocked to feel a finger under his chin, smooth and warm, human feeling and gloveless, lifting his head with both strength and gentleness. "I wasn't finished, Spirit. I love all my Weapons and Meisters, all my students equally, all except for you and Stein. I love the two of you in a different way."

Spirit felt his heart race.

But then Death lowered his hand. "Stein was the strongest Meister I'd even seen and you were the strongest Weapon. But then Julia revealed Stein betrayed you, and Stein fled, and while I was too stunned to act, Julia stepped in and won your heart. And before I knew it, you were married, and she was pregnant with Maka. She could no longer wield you in battle, but together you both realized your full potential. She forged you into a perfect Death Scythe for me. She got to have you, but I was the one who got to hold you."

Spirit winced at the distorted, echoed memory of the marriage vows he'd taken. "She never forgave you for that. Or me. Julia was always so jealous, even at the start. She and Spirit used to glare at one another, they fought like cats and dogs whenever they saw one another. Back then, she was only a good friend. I was shocked when she told me what Stein had been doing to me, that she discovered he'd been drugging me and experimenting on me. I wouldn't have believed it, if I hadn't woken up in his lab, tied to the bench, with her unstrapping me.

"She was so brave, rescuing me like that. So many people were afraid of Stein. I never really understood why. He was always so good to me, so kind. It was the Madness, of course, though I didn't realize it at the time. It wasn't his fault. That's why I was able to forgive him, to work with him again, when he returned, after my divorce. That and what he did to himself, to try and fix himself. All those horrible scars. And he installed that freakish screw. He told me it was because he had a screw loose, and it gave him a way to tighten it again. And you forgave him too."

"I never forgave him, not for hurting you, or hurting himself. But I learned to bury my feelings, so the two of you could work together, so you could salvage what you could of your relationship. You were both so miserable apart," Death said, sounding lost and frustrated.

Spirit's eyes widened. "You let him come back for me?"

"Of course. I told you, I love you, Spirit. I couldn't bear to see you hurt. I only wish Stein loved you as much as you loved him," Death said sadly.

Spirit jumped, jarred out of the poignant moment by frantic pounding on the bedroom door, which was flung open before he could reach it.

"Marie!" Spirit cried, in shock and concern. She was panting and gasping, like she'd run halfway across the City, Kid at her heels, looking even worse. Spirit's eyes flew immediately to Death, and to his relief saw he was fully cloaked again, his face masked and hidden. Spirit looked back at Marie. He hadn't seen her look this frantic since the worst days of the Kishin War, when Stein was…

"What's happened to Stein? Is he…?" Spirit asked, leaving the sentence hanging. _Is he mad? Injured? Not dead. He can't be._

"Gone. He's gone. I wasn't supposed to go to his lab today, but I know he doesn't eat when I'm not there to remind him and… He left a note. He's going to…to kill…" Her hand shook as she held out a piece of paper to Lord Death.

He took it as Spirit's eyes widened in disbelief as he guessed what it said. "To kill himself? Oh Lord Death," Spirit swore, his heart pounding.

"He's gone to kill your ex-wife first. And then he's going to… She's here, in Death City. We have to get to her, immediately. We have to stop him, save him," Death demanded.

The tone of his voice would have jarred Spirit out of his shock, even if the hand grabbing his arm and yanking him towards the wall hadn't. In the next moment, they were stepping through the ornately framed full length mirror in Kid's bedroom.


	12. Chapter 12 - Revelations and Reconcil

**These characters are under copyright by** **Atsushi Ōkubo, Squar Enix, Yen Press, Shōnen,** **  
Akatsuki Yamatoya.** **Madman Entertainment, Manga Entertainment, Funimation,** **and/or others. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.**

Chapter 12 – Revelations and Reconciliations: How Could We Have Been So Blind?

Julia smiled when she opened the door, the same cat-eating-the-canary grin she always gave Spirit.

 _You stupid bitch. This is the last time you're ever going to smile, at me or anyone else. I'm going to rip the lying tongue out of your head, as soon as I get what I came for._

"I'm sorry. Was the restraining order my _husband_ put against you lifted without my knowledge?" Julia asked in mock surprise, standing in the doorway as if she didn't have a care in the world, carefully emphasizing the word husband the way she always did when she spoke to him, twisting the knife.

 _In just a few minutes I'll be the one twisting the knife. Only I'll be twisting it in your throat, when I sever your vocal cords, you lying bitch._

"Ex-husband. But you won't need a restraining order after tonight," Stein said truthfully.

"Oh? So you're finally admitting defeat and leaving? I'm disappointed, Franken. I thought you had more _Spirit_ than that," she taunted, emphasizing the name she didn't have any right to speak.

 _Her face turned purple as her eyes bulged from their sockets, as her hands clawed frantically at his hands, leaving bloody trails from the skin shredded by her clawlike nails. The feel of her neck in his hands was exquisite, the cracking of her bones and cartilage as he crushed her trachea and esophagus. But what he really wanted to do was cut open her chest, to watch her bleed, to see whether it was really true, whether a human could truly survive without a beating heart._

The slap to his face was a welcome shock, snapping him out of his fantasy and revealing the true colors of the vicious bitch who stole Spirit from him. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, freak!"

"Why? Why did you take him from me? You didn't even want him. You threw him out of your bed, your house, your life. You divorced him. What did you gain? Maka? If you just wanted a child…" Stein goaded.

She laughed in his face. It wasn't the first time, but it would be the last.

"You poor, pathetic, stupid, naïve, gullible, bumbling ass! All this time, and you still don't understand? I wanted him because I couldn't have him. Because he was yours. Because he was pretty. Because Death wanted him, and I wanted something even a God couldn't possess. But you both made it so easy. Too easy. You took all the fun out of the game. A few carefully whispered lies to get people to doubt your sanity. A little drug in Spirit's coffee, and the next thing he knows, I'm 'rescuing' him from your evil clutches," she said, putting air quotes around the word rescuing. "A few strategically placed holes in a box of condoms, and I'm pregnant."

Stein fumed as she calmly and smugly recounted how she'd destroyed his life. But she'd told him exactly what he'd wanted, needed, to hear, she'd admitted to far more than he'd hoped.

"You're the poor pathetic moron, Julia. You never saw the value of what you stole. You never loved Spirit or Maka. When you got tired of Spirit, when your new toy wasn't fun to play with anymore, you fabricated a pack of lies about adultery, screeching about how he was cheating on you, how he was a terrible husband and father, turning his own daughter against him, thinking your lies would destroy him, the way you destroyed me. You were no better than the Witch Medusa. You used your own child as a weapon.

"But you underestimated everyone. You never realized how much Maka loved her father. You never realized how much Lord Death loved your husband. You never realized how much I loved both of them. You thought you destroyed me, when I'm the one who's destroyed you," Stein said confidently.

"Destroyed? I'm sorry, do I actually look destroyed to you, you delusional freak?" she scoffed.

"I've never hated anyone in my life more than you. The Witch Medusa reminded me so much of you, because of the way she used her own child, the way she used everyone. She was selfish and cruel and evil, rotten to her heartless core, just like you, and I hated her for that, but not nearly as much as I hate you.

"You're the reason I was able to overcome the Madness Medusa triggered inside me, because I hated her for the way she used Crona, the way you used Maka, the way Medusa used me like you did, the way she tricked Marie and turned her against me, like you tricked Spirit and Lord Death and turned them against me. But there is one thing I love Medusa for. She gave me access to the weapon I'm using to destroy you."

And there it was, finally, the doubt, the flash of fear, the knowledge that she'd gone too far, that animals are dangerous when they're cornered, that they'll turn and fight viciously, that caged instinctive need we all possess to tear our killers to shreds. And Julia had killed him, as surely as she'd signed her own death warrant.

"Even if you could wield a weapon a Witch gave you, you wouldn't dare hurt me," she scoffed, but she'd hesitated a moment too long. Her fear was delicious, intoxicating. The only sweeter scent would be her blood, bright and red, flowing out of her vicious mouth, as soon as he tore out that lying serpent's tongue.

"It's too late, Julia. Your mistake was coming back to gloat, to rub our faces in your machinations. You should have kept safely away on the other side of the world, stayed in the Middle East, sending Maka a postcard every few months from whatever country you were contaminating with your presence. Now all your careful plans are falling down around your ears, like a house of cards. You're already destroyed.

"That weapon I mentioned? Medusa didn't give it to me. She gave it to Marie, to use against me. A tiny little listening device, one she drank, tuned to a radio, so Medusa's minions could hear everything Marie heard. Like the one I drank, before coming here, tuned to the radio and the recorder in my lab, recording every confession you just made, for Spirit and Lord Death and Maka to hear. But don't worry. I'm not going to risk you getting away, hurting anyone else. You're going to be long dead before they come for you," Stein said, grinning gleefully.

And there it was, the sequence of expressions he'd been waiting for: shock, denial, outrage, panic, desperation and fear, not for her life, but of discovery, of Spirit and Lord Death learning who and what she really was. Even as she manifested her blades on her arms, he lunged for her with his scalpel with a speed she couldn't match, reminding her he was the strongest Meister ever to graduate from the Academy, a madman who liked to vivisect living creatures.

To his frustration and rage, he was stopped a few scant centimeters before stabbing her throat the way he'd fantasized, but not by her. He realized it was shadows that were binding him, and he heard Spirit's voice call out his ex-wife's name.

Hearing Spirit speak her name and not his own made both terror and rage flood him, even before Julia sheathed her blades back into her body, burst into tears and flung herself at Spirit, sobbing about how he'd tried to kill her.

Stein fought frantically to free himself. She was going to trick them again, use them, find the radio, the recorder in his lab, destroy it before they could hear! But the shadows were binding his mouth as well as his hands and feet.

 _She's lying! Don't listen!_ But his muffled screams of warning were unintelligible.

Then Death's shadows enveloped him fully, smothering him in warm darkness, and all thought ceased.

0 0 0

"Spirit! It was horrible! I just barely escaped from him, just before you arrived! He was the one who convinced me you were cheating on me. All those women, I never realized it was all a trick. He was gloating about it, laughing about how he had destroyed you. He was completely mad.

"He took me by surprise, attacked me without warning and held that scalpel at my throat! He forced me to say the most terrible things, but none of it's true! How could it be? You know how much I love you and Maka. He's too dangerous to leave free. You need to lock him away, where no one can hear his paranoid, mad rants, his lies!" Julia urged, clinging to Spirit.

"We need to get them both back to the Academy," Death said quietly, thankful they'd arrived in time, before Stein did something terrible, something neither he nor Spirit could ever forgive. He had hoped to never see Stein descend into Madness again.

"Lord Death, please! He's so dangerous, so strong! Surely you can't allow him to be so near your students! He might attack Maka next, or your own son!" Julia urged.

"He'd never hurt Maka or Kid," Spirit claimed, with rock hard certainty and conviction.

"He tried to kill me!" Julia shrilled.

Her voice had always grated on Death's nerves, though he wasn't sure why. His shadows wrapped more tightly around Stein, embracing him.

"We need to get him to the Infirmary," Death stated grimly.

"No! I mean, I heard all the injured Meisters and Weapons are there. Surely you wouldn't endanger them by allowing a vicious madman among them?" Julia reasoned.

The words "vicious" and "madman" made Death tighten his hold more protectively about the unconscious Meister.

"He needs to be locked up in an asylum, or a prison. Think of your son, Lord Death, and our daughter, Spirit. You can't risk Stein hurting them," Julia urged.

"She's right, sir," Spirit agreed, his voice gruff with emotion.

"You'd better come with us, Julia," Death reluctantly stated.

At first it looked like she was about to argue, but then she nodded with unaccustomed meekness.

Death stepped through the mirror with the three of them in tow. He wasn't surprised to see Kid and Marie when he re-entered the room they'd left from, but he was shocked by the matching expressions on their faces: cold, vindictive fury.

To his consternation, before he could ask them what was wrong, Marie lunged forward and punched Julia square in the jaw, knocking her into the wall. "That's for Stein, you conniving bitch!" Marie yelled, as she dove onto the dazed woman, her weapons out, and began pummeling her, even as Julia belatedly manifested her own weapons and frantically defended herself from the unhinged attack.

Kid stepped gingerly around the battle. "Did you make it in time? Julia's still alive, but did you save Stein?" Kid asked anxiously, seeing the limp form emerge from the shadows, in his arms.

"He's alive, but not in his right mind. He was about to kill her," Death admitted, as he glanced over in time to see a splatter of blood decorate the wall, before Spirit grabbed Marie from behind, moments too slow to save his ex-wife from a broken nose.

"Marie, that's enough! What's wrong with you? Why would you attack Julia?" Spirit demanded.

"Kid and I will tell you after Lord Death ties and gags her," Marie insisted, as she struggled in his grip. "Damn it! Stop her!" Marie yelled in frustration.

Death saw Julia lunging for what looked like a tape recorder and radio. His shadows wrapped around her, just before she reached them.

"He made me say it! None of it's true, none of it! You believe me, don't you, Spirit?" Julia begged.

Death enveloped her completely in his shadow, and felt her go limp, unconscious, like Stein. "Please explain, Marie, Son," Death said.

"All you need is to hear for yourself, sir, in that bitch's own words," Marie said, her voice venomous.

"Let Marie go and just listen," Kid urged. Then he turned on the tape recorder and pressed "play".

Death listened in surprise, then shock and horror at what the recording revealed, letting go of both Stein and Julia with his shadow, laying them on the floor and embracing Spirit instead, not smothering him, but supporting him, when his legs gave out, when he heard what Julia had done to Stein, to him.

They turned it off it the middle of Julia's tearful performance, when they'd arrived to stop Spirit.

"She used me. The whole time… She didn't feel… She didn't love… She drugged me and made me think it was Stein. She… she doctored the condoms, so she'd get pregnant. Maka. She used our daughter, my daughter, her own daughter, as a tool, a weapon… Stein… She made us… He almost…

Death's arms embraced him. Spirit's whole body was cold, shaking, all of Spirit's normal exuberance vanished. Death pulled Spirit over to Stein and sat down beside him on the floor.

He guided Spirit's hand to stroke Stein's cheek, his own fingertips stroking his face along with him. "He's still alive, Spirit. It's not too late. We can't erase what happened, but we can make it right. We can let him know that we know the truth now. We can ask him to forgive us, and make sure no one ever hurts him like that again, that no one ever takes him from us again."

"How will I tell Maka?" Spirit asked brokenly.

"You'll let Julia do it for you. We'll have Soul beside her and we'll have Maka listen to the recording. We can edit out the part about her conception," he offered.

"I… No. It's horrible, but she has to hear, in order to understand just how… how twisted her mother is. Maka's strong. I'll remind her how much I love her first and… But first, we need to make sure Stein is alright. I can't do that to Maka without him," Spirit insisted.

"Whatever you want, whatever you need, Spirit. Stein was right, you know. Julia was a stupid fool, for using you like this, for not wanting you for who you are. But Stein and I aren't stupid, or cruel. We both love you," Death assured him.

"Why? How can you, when I've been so blind, so stupid?" Spirit asked, anguished.

Death had never hated someone so much as he hated the woman who had hurt Spirit and Stein so cruelly, not even the Witch who killed the father he'd never known. "She fooled me too, Spirit. She fooled everyone. Only Stein knew the truth, and she made sure we'd never believe him, never even listen to him. I almost didn't let him back into the City," Death bemoaned, the memory a painful one. "I told him he was on probation, that one wrong move and he'd be exiled forever. I made it easy for him to succumb to the Madness, to fall to Medusa."

"You can't blame yourself for that. We're all to blame, but mostly Julia and Medusa herself," Spirit reminded him.

Death nodded, though he didn't really agree. He was the Lord of the City, responsible for the protection of every inhabitant, and he'd failed spectacularly in his most important duty. He'd failed the two men he loved most in all the world, save for his son.

0 0 0

Death called Nygus and Sid to tend to Julia's injuries and to transport her to one of the cells under Death City, to ensure she was locked safely away. They would move her later to a cell or psychiatric facility in the European branch. Death wanted at least an ocean and a few thousand kilometers separating her from Stein and Spirit.

"I've thought more about it," Spirit told him. "I need to talk to Maka first. I can't risk her finding out somehow that her mother has been arrested without explaining it. I know Stein is safe with you and he deserves my full attention when he wakes up. I need to resolve things with Maka first."

Death promised Spirit he would stay by Stein's side until he awoke, but that he'd keep him unconscious until Spirit returned from speaking with his daughter. They both needed to be with him when he came to.

"I'm coming with you to speak with Maka," Kid proclaimed, the strength of the assertion a relief to Death. The fractures in his son's somewhat fragile psyche were already healing, thanks to Mifune and Angela, to Soul. And physically, he was starting to look strong again.

Death had never been more grateful for the innate Reaper healing ability he'd passed onto his son. Although it was quite possible that the healing ward the Witch Angela had placed on his son's cast was helping speed the healing of more than just the bones of his arm. Even a Reaper took a while to recover from such extensive injury.

"Will you be alright alone with Stein sir?" Spirit asked, obviously concerned neither he nor Kid would be with him. Considering how unstable he'd been acting lately, he could hardly blame him for it.

"I could stay with you, sir," Marie volunteered.

Death knew Stein would hate for Marie to see him like this and he still wasn't sure exactly how close the two of them were.

"I'd rather you went with Spirit and Kid. Maka might need a woman to speak with about this, and she likes and trusts you. Don't worry. I won't succumb to the Madness when you're both gone. It takes something to trigger it, and Julia will be safely away, and I'll be with Stein, even if he is unconscious," Death assured them.

Marie's eyes widened at his admission, but Spirit nodded. "Alright. Come on, Marie, Kid. Let's get this over with," Spirit said with grim resolution.


	13. Chapter 13 - She's My Mother: How Can

**These characters are under copyright by** **Atsushi Ōkubo, Squar Enix, Yen Press, Shōnen,** **  
Akatsuki Yamatoya.** **Madman Entertainment, Manga Entertainment, Funimation,** **and/or others. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.**

Chapter 13 – She's My Mother: How Can You Say That?

Kid was glad his father had allowed him to go too, that he hadn't tried to keep him in the house, to protect him. Spirit carried the radio, and Marie had the tape recorder. He didn't mind that they were the ones burdened, since the cast made carrying anything awkward, and his leg was still weak. Thankfully, his father hadn't insisted he use the wheelchair. As long as the others didn't walk too quickly, he could keep up, and the wheelchair had made him feel like an invalid, a victim, damaged.

"Kid? Are you alright?" Marie asked in concern.

"Damn it. We forgot your wheelchair," Spirit cursed, turning around.

"It's fine. I don't need it. I can walk. It's not that far," Kid urged. "My father would have said something, if he was worried."

"If you're sure?" Spirit asked reluctantly, appraising Kid carefully.

"Let's go," he urged, taking the lead, biting his lip against the pain in his leg.

"We'll let you walk, but you have to take it easy, Kid," Marie scolded gently, the way he imagined a mother would have, if he'd had one.

"Alright," he agreed, slowing his pace.

When they reached the Infirmary, they saw one of the backup physicians and nurses were checking on each of their patients.

Soul was back in the bed next to Maka, and Crona was standing beside her, while Liz's bed had been moved next to Patty's. Black*Star was still next to Tsubaki.

"Kid!" Patty greeted happily, and the others turned and smiled in greeting. But the welcoming smile on Crona's face froze, a look of horror replacing it.

"What are you doing with that?" they shrilled, their eyes riveted to the radio Spirit was carrying.

"Damn it. I should have realized Crona might be here, that they'd react like this," Spirit said.

"Honey, this isn't about you," Marie tried to soothe.

"What's going on? Why are you carrying that? Why do you all look so upset? I didn't do anything, I swear!" Crona denied, looking more and more frantic with every word.

"Leave Crona alone!" Maka demanded, sitting up in bed and trying to swing her legs over the side.

Spirit thrust the radio towards Kid and he awkwardly took it, as the Death Scythe rushed over to his daughter's bedside.

"Sweetie, you need to stay in bed," he scolded.

"Stop calling me that! My name is Maka. You should know: Mom said you were the one to name me," she complained angrily. "Why are you bullying Crona?"

"We're not. I told you, we didn't think this through, that the others would still be here with you, that Crona might be. Look, Maka, we need to talk to you in private. We can use Stein's office. He won't be needing it for a while," Spirit encouraged, wincing as he said it.

Marie pushed a wheelchair to her bed, the tape recorder tucked under her arm. "This won't take long, though I think you'll likely want to be alone with me for a while, after we speak to you. Or maybe with Kid."

"No. I should have thought of this before. I'm so stupid! Crona, Soul, after we're done speaking to Maka, she's going to need you both," Kid asserted.

"What's this all about, Kid?" Soul challenged.

"Whatever it is, it's something they don't want me or Tsubaki to hear," Black*Star stated, sounding both angry and hurt.

"Or me and Patty," Liz said, sounding the same.

"Or me and Mifune," Angela said, thankfully sounding intrigued, but not hurt.

"No, that's not it at all. It's just… it's private. The only reason Marie and I even know is because we were there, but this is really a private matter between my father, Spirit and Stein, and Maka's family," Kid tried to explain.

Maka's eyes widened in shock. "Marie! Why is there blood on your blouse?"

Marie's looked guilty as she looked down at herself. Kid cursed. He hadn't even noticed some of Julia's blood had splattered onto her. The asymmetry of it should have freaked him out, now that it had been brought to his attention, especially after what Giriko did to him, but he was still too furious with Julia. For a moment, he wished Marie's shirt was drenched in blood, for betraying and hurting his father and Spirit and Stein, he imagined how Julia would have looked if Giriko had been the one to attack her and then he felt sick for thinking something so horrible.

"Kid!" Soul cried, leaping out of his bed and running to his side, wrapping his arm protectively around him.

"Damn it. I should have realized this might be too stressful for him. Kid, Marie and I can speak to Maka, with Crona. You and Soul don't have to be there," Spirit soothed.

Kid hated it, hated being talked to like a child, coddled and protected. It made him feel so fragile, so breakable, so broken. He pushed out of Soul's arms. "No. Maka is my friend, and she needs to hear this from me. She wouldn't believe you, Spirit, and she might not even believe Marie, but she trusts me, and she knows I would never do anything to hurt her. I'm going."

"What's going on?" Maka demanded, but more anxiety than indignation in her voice this time.

"We'll tell you as soon as we're in Stein's office," Kid promised.

0 0 0

Maka got into the wheelchair without complaint but pushed away Soul and wheeled herself to Dr. Stein's office. The moment everyone was inside and the door was closed, she demanded, "Tell me what's going on!"

Spirit sighed, as he set the radio down on Stein's desk. "It's about your mother."

Maka paled. "Oh Lord Death! Did something happen to mom? She's hurt? She… she's not...?"

The fear in her eyes made Soul's heart clench.

"No, she's not dead, or hurt. Well, no, she is hurt, but not badly, and nothing she didn't deserve, nothing compared to what she did to Stein," Spirit claimed, to Soul's confusion.

"Damn it. He's going to hate this, that you all know. Look, even though it's not our fault, you can hate me all you want for this, you can hate Marie, just don't you dare take any of this out on Stein or Kid or Lord Death," Spirit demanded, sounding surprisingly angry.

"What? Why should I hate Marie? Wait. You philandering jerk! Don't tell me you slept with Marie!" Maka accused, incensed. "Is that what this is about? You two have been having an affair, and…"

"No, damn it! I take it back, you can hate me all you want, but don't you dare say another word against Marie, when all she did was save Stein's life, _again_! I don't care what that lying bitch who calls herself your mother told you, but I never once cheated on her!" Spirit roared.

Maka was staring in wide-eyed shock at her father and Soul didn't blame her. Spirit had never once raised his voice to his daughter, but right now, he was acting almost as insane as Lord Death had been.

Soul stepped protectively between them. "Back off!" he demanded, ready to take on the older Death Scythe.

"Spirit, you need to calm down. Maka has no idea what's going on. None of this is her fault. She's as much a victim as you and Stein and my father," Kid scolded, with the same air of maturity and command he'd displayed during the war against Asura.

Hearing it was a relief to Soul, for more than one reason.

Kid turned to Maka. "Maka, your father isn't your enemy. Your mother did some horrible things and she was finally caught, she's finally being punished for it. We have her confession on tape, and that's what you need to hear. It's up to you whether you want Soul and Crona to hear too. Father and Spirit and Marie and I were all there, we all heard, but no one else in the Academy knows about it, at least, not the details. Nygus and Sid know she's been arrested, but they don't know why, other than the fact that she's been charged with treason against Lord Death and the DWMA," Kid explained intently, inexorably.

Soul was stunned, but he could see from her face that Maka was in complete denial.

"Treason? My mother? Are you _insane_? My mother would never do something like that! It's a trick, someone's framing her, I don't care what you've heard, what you think you know. Or she was protecting someone, taking the blame for someone else. You! You did something, and she got blamed!" she accused her father, glaring at Spirit.

Soul expected Spirit to yell again, or to falter, to stammer and apologize, to beg her to understand. The last thing he expected was to see a complete lack of expression, as he reached over, took the recorder from Marie and pressed the "play" button.

There was the sound of a doorbell, and a door opening.

" _I'm sorry. Was the restraining order my_ husband _put against you lifted without my knowledge?"_

Soul recognized Maka's mother's voice, from the few times she's actually been in Death City since he met Maka, but the tone was mocking, sickly sweet to the point of scathing.

" _Ex-husband. But you won't need a restraining order after tonight," Stein said coolly._

" _Oh? So you're finally admitting defeat and leaving? I'm disappointed, Franken. I thought you had more_ Spirit _than that," she taunted._

Then there was a slapping sound, so unexpected it almost made Soul jump. Had Stein actually hit Maka's mother? The thought of any man hitting a woman infuriated him.

" _Look at me when I'm talking to you, freak!" Maka's mother snapped, her voice vicious._

Soul was stunned. _Maka's mother hit Stein?_

" _Why? Why did you take him from me? You didn't even want him. You threw him out of your bed, your house, your life. You divorced him. What did you gain? Maka? If you just wanted a child…" Stein asked dispassionately, as if he were idly curious._ Soul knew Stein well enough to know that he sounded the most remote when he was the most deeply upset by something.

 _There was laughter, cruel and biting. "You poor, pathetic, stupid, naïve, gullible, bumbling ass! All this time, and you still don't understand? I wanted him because I couldn't have him. Because he was yours. Because he was pretty. Because Death wanted him, and I wanted something even a God couldn't possess. But you both made it so easy. Too easy. You took all the fun out of the game. A few carefully whispered lies to get people to doubt your sanity. A little drug in his coffee, and the next thing he knows, I'm 'rescuing' him from your evil clutches. A few strategically placed holes in a box of condoms, and I'm pregnant," she said smugly._

Maka slammed her hand across the buttons, stopping the recording. "Stop it! That's not her! That's not my mother! She wouldn't say that! It's a trick, a fake!"

"Maka, I'm so sorry honey, but you need to hear the rest," Spirit said reaching a hand towards her.

"This is your doing, it's all your fault, I know it is! Get out! Get away from me! I don't want you here!" Maka shrieked.

The door flew open and Black*Star was there. "What are you doing to Maka! Soul, Kid, how can you just be standing there, when she's screaming like that?" he demanded.

"Spirit, I think you'd better leave with Black*Star. We'll make sure she hears the rest," Marie urged.

"I'm not abandoning my daughter," Spirit argued.

"Oh, that'll be a first! You abandoned us all the time, for whatever new woman caught your eye. Like you ever loved either of us! All you know how to do is hurt us! I hate you! I want you out of this room, out of my life! I don't ever want to talk to you again!" Maka screamed, shaking.

"Fine. If that's the only thing left I can do for you, then that's what I'll do," Spirit said, heading for the door without a backward glance.

"Spirit, wait! I'm going with you. Maybe she won't feel so ganged up on if it's only Kid explaining, and Soul and Crona listening. Black*Star, I know you're worried about your friends, but please get back to bed," Marie urged.

"Fine. But if I hear any more screaming, I'm coming back in. No one hurts Maka," Black*Star said protectively, looking at Soul and Kid, as if he was exacting a promise.

"I'm sorry, Black*Star, but sometimes the most severe wounds are the ones you don't feel right away. But I'll do all I can to explain," Kid promised.

Black*Star nodded, and closed the door after Stein and Marie left the room.

"Maka, I'm going to turn it back on. You need to hear the rest," Kid said inexorably.

"Why are you doing this? How can you believe these lies? It's not her! She wouldn't say things like that!" Maka insisted, but her voice was catching, and Soul could see she was on the verge of tears.

"I'm sorry, Maka, but it's her. We were there when Father brought her and Stein out through the mirror. She doesn't even deny what she said, though she argued she was forced, when she realized Stein had been recording her without her knowledge. You need to hear the rest," Kid explained. Then, without waiting for her approval, he pressed the "play" button again.

" _You're the poor pathetic moron, Julia. You never saw the value of what you stole. You never loved Spirit or Maka. When you got tired of Spirit, when your new toy wasn't fun to play with anymore, you fabricated a pack of lies about adultery, screeching about how he was cheating on you, how he was a terrible husband and father, turning his own daughter against him, thinking your lies would destroy him, the way you destroyed me. You were no better than the Witch Medusa. You used your own child as a weapon. "_

Crona shuddered, wide-eyed, and Maka hugged them protectively and glared at Kid.

" _But you underestimated everyone. You never realized how much Maka loved her father. You never realized how much Lord Death loved your husband. You never realized how much I loved both of them. You thought you destroyed me, when I'm the one who's destroyed you," Stein said confidently._

Soul watched Maka intently as her mother continued to goad and taunt Stein, until finally there were the sounds of fighting and Maka's eyes filled with panic.

"Don't worry. Your mother wasn't injured. My father and Spirit subdued Stein before he could hurt her or himself, Father used his shadow to render him unconscious," Kid assured her.

They listened as Death and Spirit intervened, as Julia tried to blame Stein for what she'd said, tried to get him locked away. Finally, Kid stopped the recording. "The rest is when Father and Spirit stepped through the mirror with Stein and your mother. She tried to destroy the radio and recorder, but Marie fought her, and then my father used his shadow to render her unconscious."

 _Crap._ Soul had never liked Maka's mother, she'd spent way too much time away from the daughter she had claimed to love, accepting the Middle Eastern post while insisting Maka stay at the North American DWMA. All that time, Spirit had been the better parent, by far, except for his cheating. But that part had apparently been a lie. Soul remembered all the times Spirit had tried to deny it to Maka.

"Wait. Why didn't he fight it more? All those times she accused him of cheating. Agreeing to divorce her because of it?" Soul asked, confused.

"From what I've seen over the years, and what I now know, what we heard, it's because Spirit and Stein were in a relationship before Julia and Spirit, and Spirit apparently still loved Stein, in spite of being tricked into thinking Stein betrayed him, that he was experimenting on him. Stein was exiled before Maka was born, I doubt Spirit ever did anything after he was with Maka's mother, but he apparently felt guilty for still loving Stein. And for loving my father," Kid admitted.

Soul frowned. "Wait. You mean what Stein was saying…?"

Kid nodded. "I'm not surprised the rest of you didn't realize, it's not something any of them have made apparent to anyone else, but I've known my father loves both Spirit and Stein for quite some time. I know that the hardest thing Father ever did, next to imprisoning my brother Asura, was banishing Stein from the Academy."

 _So that was what Spirit meant, when he told me to never hurt Kid. He must have realized how we feel about one another, the way Kid knew about him and Stein and his father._

Maka was clinging silently to Crona. She hadn't said another word.

"Maka?" Soul asked gently.

"It's not true. It can't be true. My mother wouldn't do something so horrible. She's a good person, a good Meister. When Lord Death claimed Spirit as his new Death Scythe, she didn't just retire, fade away into the shadows, like other Meisters. She realized the hidden potential within her, she honed her dormant Weapon ability and became an Autonomous Weapon, like Justin. She had invented and perfected Genie Hunter, a technique that specifically targets evil. That's why Lord Death assigned her as the head of the Middle Eastern Division, because she was the only one powerful enough, kickass enough, dedicated enough to do the job.

"That's why I only get to see her once in a Happy Moon, why she only has time to send me postcards instead of letters, but she always sends me them. Every single word is that much more precious because she has to use so few. How could someone as twisted as that woman on the tape do something that amazing, if… It's not her. It's not real. It's a trick," Maka swore, as her eyes swam with frustrated tears.

"Maka," Soul tried again, but not insistently, more hesitantly, because there was something about what she was saying that was bugging him. Not just that it was making too much sense to argue against – because Maka was right, Julia Albarn was a legend, an icon every other Meister and Weapon on the planet strove to become – but something else, something deeper than that, but linked to that.

"It's not her! It can't be her! I love her and she loves me! And she loved dad, until he betrayed her! Why are you making her into the villain, when he's the one who always cheated on her? Even if that part is true, about the women, he still cheated, because he loves Stein, not her, he loves Lord Death, not her! She was his wife! He's supposed to love her more than anything, but he loved them instead! It's not right!" Maka yelled, and the tears started to fall.

She stood there, so brave and strong an alone, pitting herself against everyone in the room, against the damning truth of the recording, too strong and proud to make the first move, so Soul made it for her. He wrapped his arms around her and embraced her in a protective hug. And that was the moment she broke and began sobbing in his arms, the wordless kindness and support and loyalty too much for her to bear. Because no one could stand alone against something this huge, not even Maka, who'd faced off against the Kishin Asura all alone, the last Weapon and Meister left standing, and defeated him with the strength of her bravery.

That's when it hit him, what had been bothering him about all this. He could hear Maka's words again, as she defeated the Kishin, _"Bravery's not special. But that means everybody has it."_

And the Kishin's response, _"Everybody, huh? Then it's just like madness."_

The Kishin was the one who'd given Soul the key to overcoming the devil inside his head for good. If madness was everywhere, in everyone, not just him, and the whole world wasn't a madhouse, there had to be some reason for that, right? Maybe everyone else didn't fight against their madness. Maybe they ignored it, it was such a small part of them, they just didn't hear the voice whispering to them. Or maybe they did, but they accepted it, embraced it, as part of them, as part of what made them who and what they were.

That's when he'd stopped fighting against not just the devil inside him, but against the very idea of it, and instead accepted that he was part of him, that he'd be part of him forever, and swallowed him. It was ironic that the Kishin, who had instead dwelled in so much fear, of the world, of the people in it, of himself, of the devil inside him, had instead allowed his own madness to overtake and control him. He'd allowed the madness to embrace him, instead of embracing it.

But there was more to it than that. The Kishin had been alone: he'd isolated himself from everyone, convinced himself to rely on others was a weakness, instead of a strength. Soul knew he'd been like that too, before meeting Maka, before seeing how amazing she was, knowing she'd be the one who could hone his power so that he could become Lord Death's new Death Scythe. Normally a Reaper only wields a single special Scythe, though he could wield any Weapon in the Academy. The problem was, Weapons break, they die.

The foes the Reaper faced would never last a single round of combat against him. But even the Reaper's Death Scythe sometimes needed replacing, once they were too old and retired, or if they died in combat, or even if they were just too wounded to fight, to continue a battle.

He hadn't minded the thought of being Lord Death's Back-up Death Scythe. He didn't want Spirit to die. He was Maka's father and she loved him, but also, he was a pretty cool guy, except for the cheating thing, and hey, it looked like now he hadn't really done that, right?

 _Damn it, Evans, concentrate! That's not the point! What is the point? Oh, that's right._

The point was, as much as he needed Maka, she needed him just as much. A Weapon was nothing without his Meister, but a Meister was nothing without her Weapon. They were a team: it was together that they were strongest. The reason there were so few Weapon Meisters, Autonomous Weapons, was because they were so unstable: they didn't usually live long enough to realize their potential. Most of them committed suicide during puberty. Though some lived to be adults, they usually wound up completely mad, if they lived.

Justin Law was the only Autonomous Weapon in ages who'd actually remained functional, and hey, he'd met the guy, and he'd seen what that calm façade hid, even if no one else realized it. He used those headphones of his to keep the madness at bay, the sound of the music to drown out the voice in his head. Unlike him, he didn't create his own music, play his own music in his head, he used other peoples', but strangers', anyone's, not people who mattered to him.

And that was the key to sanity. When Soul had defeated the devil inside him, it was because he wasn't alone. Maka had been with him, inside his head. She'd embraced him and shielded him from the madness, when it had flooded him, tried to drown him. She'd stood by his side while he swallowed the devil. She was always there, the strength of her courage giving him courage, the strength of her love and support allowing him to be strong.

Maka's mother, Julia, didn't have that. Spirit had loved Stein and Lord Death, not her. So she'd tricked him, gotten rid of Stein and swooped in, taken Spirit as her Weapon. But partnerships didn't work like that. They were based on trust, not desperation and lies and manipulation. She'd thought she'd make Spirit hate Stein, that he'd believe Stein had been using him, experimenting on him. But Spirit loved Stein too much. Even though he believed her, he thought Stein had betrayed him, ultimately, he'd forgiven him enough to work with him again, to partner with him again.

Had that been the turning point, what finally made her crack? No. She'd likely slowly been going mad the entire time, with no one to protect her from herself. But Stein had gone mad too, he'd succumbed to that same darkness inside of himself, that wellspring of insecurity and self-doubt and self-hatred. And he was whole now. Functional, at least, and once he woke up, and realized no one would believe Julia's lies anymore, he'd have Spirit and Lord Death. Who would Julia have, other than Maka?

"Maka, you're right. Your mother isn't evil," Soul said with conviction, making Maka pause mid-sob, still in his arms.

"What are you talking about? You heard the tape, Soul," Kid snapped, sounding far more agitated than he should.

But Soul understood. Kid was upset on his father's behalf, because Julia had hurt Lord Death as much as she'd hurt Stein and Spirit, because he loved them. And maybe because he was watching Soul hold Maka, and remembering how he'd been holding him while he was crying only a little while ago, and feeling jealous because of it, and hating himself for it, for being jealous of Maka, when Kid knew he loved her like a sister, and he loved Kid…

He froze on that thought, those words. _Holy crap. I love Kid. Not just as a friend, the way I love Tsubaki and Patty and Liz, not like a sister, the way I love Maka, or like a brother, like Black*Star, but love. Love, love._

He smiled, he grinned, in spite of everything, Maka still teary eyed and devastated in his arms, Crona watching silently and Kid watching resentfully.

"Why are you smiling? How can you smile like that when Maka's crying? I don't know how to deal with it when she cries, but even I know _you're not supposed to smile_!" Crona shrilled, the final words an angry yell.

"Whoa! Take it easy, Crona. Just chill, alright? That's not why I was smiling. It's just, I've figured some things out, about Maka and her mother and me. Maka, you're right. Your mother isn't evil. She's the opposite of evil: she destroys evil, with Genie Hunter, right? But she's also an Autonomous Weapon.

"You know how dangerous that is. You told me, after the battle with Asura how much it freaked you out when we told you how you'd manifested your Weapon side while you were unconscious. You were afraid you wouldn't be strong enough to become an Autonomous Weapon. You wanted to suppress your Weapon side, instead of training to use it.

"Remember how angry I got, how I verbally kicked your ass? Because fear is what made Asura a Kishin. Fear is the enemy, as much as evil is. I told you that if you tried to suppress it, one day it would overcome you, and that you weren't alone, that I'd always be there to keep you safe, to keep you sane. But think about it, Maka. Your mother doesn't have that.

"She broke things off completely with your father. She doesn't have her Weapon's support, his stabilizing influence. But even before then, they were never in balance, like we are, because their foundation was built on lies, instead of trust. Hers, not his," Soul was quick to point out, when he saw the familiar scowl thinking about her father always brought to her face.

"But that doesn't mean she can't be saved. If we were able to bring Stein back, after he'd completely snapped, we can save her. There's got to be someone she works with in the Middle East who's at least a little bit close to her. We find whoever she trusts most, or someone like Marie from there, and help her," Soul stated confidently.

Kid's frown dissolved. "Soul's right, Maka. We just need to find the right person to help her. Maybe it could even be Mifune, if he's willing to try, if no one there can help. He's one of the most calm, sane, comforting people I've ever met. And maybe Angela, too, maybe her healing magic can help. Your father and mine might be ready to give up on your mother, but we're not.

"And I'm sure once we explain, once we present what happened in a different perspective, they might be willing to listen to other options than prison for her. After all the years of her life she's dedicated to the DWMA, the pressure we put her under, it's the least we can do for her," Kid agreed, to Soul's relief. With Kid on their side, they were a lot more likely to get the outcome they were hoping for.

Kid held out a handkerchief for Maka.

Maka sniffed and wiped her cheeks and nose with the handkerchief Kid gave her, and pocketed it. "Thanks Kid, Soul."

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to help," Crona apologized meekly, wistfully.

"Oh no, Crona, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to leave you out! You were a big help too, just by being here, by listening. I know how hard that must have been for you, after all the wonderful things I've told you about my mother, to have this happen out of the blue, it must have put your whole world view in skew. Are you OK?" she asked, with that sweet caring Soul loved her for.

"I'm fine. You're the one who was crying. But you're alright now? You won't give up until you help her, right?" Crona asked.

"Of course I won't. She's my mother, and I love her. I'll do anything I can to help her," Maka assured them.


	14. Chapter 14 - Reaper, Weapon and Meister

**These characters are under copyright by** **Atsushi Ōkubo, Squar Enix, Yen Press, Shōnen,** **  
Akatsuki Yamatoya.** **Madman Entertainment, Manga Entertainment, Funimation,** **and/or others. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.**

 **A/N:  
CAUTION: Brief suicidal thoughts below.**

Chapter 14 – Reaper, Weapon and Meister: Together at Last?

Stein awoke to warmth and softness and confusion. He was lying in an unfamiliar smelling bed, tucked between pristine white silk sheets, under a ridiculously plush and fluffy snow white duvet. He looked around the room: black carpet with a white border, black walls with white trim, white skulls, and white candles in Gothic candelabras. Neat, tidy, symmetrical, without a reassuring stitch in sight. Death's home.

 _What am I doing here?_

The bedroom door opened and Death and Spirit walked in. Stein felt the usual twinge of jealousy and longing. Spirit was _his_ Weapon, not Julia's and not… "Julia!" He cried the hated name aloud, as he yanked away the coverings that were drowning him in softness and stumbled out of the bed, still half tangled in the sheets.

Death and Spirit reached him simultaneously, catching him. It was only when he was pushing away their too helpful hands that he froze, flummoxed. Death's hands weren't the usual comical exaggerations he made, but strong and human feeling, under the white gloves.

"It's alright, Stein. She won't ever hurt you or anyone else again. Her final fate is yet to be determined, but she's imprisoned for now. She's a traitor to me and the DWMA. I only wish we'd listened when you tried to tell us all those years ago. It's bad enough that she caused you so much pain and sadness, but knowing we unwittingly aided her is…" Death trailed off as if he couldn't think of a sufficient word.

"Soul crushing," Spirit said, like Death, still holding him.

"You know? Ah. The tape. You didn't give her a chance to destroy it," Stein said, his voice becoming more emotionless with every word. _Now the only thing left is for me to die._

He pulled away and headed for the door. _I need to get to my lab. All I need is a scalpel and it will finally be over._

"Stein? Franken? Where are you going? You can't leave!" Spirit ordered, as if he were the Meister.

Stein stopped mid step, blinked and frowned, staring at the floor. _The only time he ever used to call me by my first name was when we were making love._

Spirit cut off his path to the door. "Look at me, damn it! You weren't the only one she hurt, you know. She took you from both Death and me. Then when she'd had her fun, she cast me aside, twisting my love for you into stories of infidelity with other women. She was my wife, but I never loved her the way I love you and Death."

Stein's head jerked up, his eyes widening in astonishment at the confession, looking quickly to Lord Death.

"Don't look so surprised. I might have been oblivious my feelings for the two of you were shared, but surely you always knew how Spirit felt about you," Death said. And then he took off his mask and hood.

"You haven't changed," Stein whispered reverently, in awe.

Death frowned. "That's right. I don't suppose that's fair, is it? Is this better?" he asked, as gentle smile and frown lines appeared on his face, and his white striped black hair became salted with grey.

"No!" Stein cried, hating to see the ageless perfection of Death's face changed. "Change back. Please," Stein pleaded.

"Why? Aren't I still just as attractive? It's still me. I haven't changed just because my face has. You haven't changed, either, Stein. Your face and body might be scarred now, but your soul and heart are still pure," Death ludicrously claimed.

"Pure? Have you met me? I went mad, remember? I tried to do terrible things," Stein reminded him.

"That wasn't you. That was the Madness Wavelength inside of you. I have that too, remember? I'm guilty of more than a little Madness myself. I nearly strangled Spirit to death. I frightened him, and even my own son, as well as a number of his friends, Weapons and Meisters," Death claimed.

"And as for me, it's a good thing Marie already pummeled Julia nearly into unconsciousness before we heard that recording, or I'd likely have cut Julia apart," Spirit added grimly.

"Marie…?" Stein asked, shocked. Marie was so gentle, a soothing balm on his tortured soul. The only one she'd ever hated and attacked was Medusa. No. She'd hated Crona too, for a while, but she'd worked with them to fight Medusa.

"Yes. That friend of yours is quite protective of you. She… ah… is just a friend, isn't she?" Death asked, his voice both hesitant and hopeful.

"Yes. A precious friend. My only friend," Stein agreed, feeling the cold, dark emptiness close in around him.

Then Spirit was holding him again, the warm strength of his arms momentarily pushing the cold darkness away.

"She's not your only friend, you idiot. Death and I are your friends too, but also, so are Maka, Soul, Black*Star, Tsubaki, Kid, Liz and Patty. Just because they're your students doesn't mean they can't be your friends. They certainly think they are. You should have seen how fierce Kid looked," Spirit argued.

"He's a chip off the old block, you know," Death said, his body suddenly morphing back into the usual goofy parody he normally maintained as his everyday façade, his face becoming an indistinct blur. "Oops. Sorry about that," he apologized sheepishly, as he reformed into his fully human form.

"It's fine. It's not like we're not used to seeing you like that. It's been years since we've seen you like this," Spirit said.

"You could see a lot more of me," Death commented rakishly, waggling his eyebrows.

"Can't you be serious just for once?" Spirit groaned.

Death's face went completely solemn, his expression intent. "I am being serious. I meant it. My son is nearly an adult now, your ex-wife is out of the picture, and you and Stein are reconciling far more deeply than you had before, when he returned just to work with you. I'd like to be a part of that, if you'll have me. Whether or not you were previously in a physical relationship with one another, I'd like to be now, with both of you. I'd like the two of you to become the three of us."

Stein looked from Death to Spirit in surprise. From the look on Spirit's face, he could tell he was just as blindsided.

"You want the three of us to be in a physical relationship? Or an emotional one?" Spirit asked cautiously, for clarity.

"Both," Death replied. "Only if you're amenable to it, of course. My feelings for the two of you won't change, whether or not you accept the idea. I'll still love both of you, the way I always have. I don't want you to worry that anything will change if you decline."

"You make it sound like a business proposition," Spirit commented, sounding dubious.

"Forgive me for that. It's not like I've had a lot of practice at this sort of thing. But I'm a quick study. I've been told I'm a good father and a good leader, so I think I'd make a good husband. Or partner. Whatever you want me to be."

"No one's ever called me a good father or a good husband," Spirit said sadly.

"You're a loving father. Yes, you made mistakes, but we all do. Just because you're not perfect doesn't change that. I can say that, remember, because while I'm the father of Kid, who is one awesome young man, I was also the father of Asura. Sometimes, no matter how hard we try, things don't work out right. But other times they do. Maka is a wonderful girl, Spirit, and that is largely thanks to you, how close you were when she was younger. Frankly, in retrospect, I think Julia was jealous of your relationship with her, too. But enough about them. Let me know what you decide whenever you know yourselves. No pressure. I've waited this long. I can wait as long as you need."

Stein reached up to turn the screw, but Spirit intercepted his hand. "You don't need that. There's nothing wrong with you. There never has been. I was just too blind to see the truth."

"You don't need me, either of you. Your Death's Weapon now, not mine, even if he does take pity on me and lets me wield you from time to time," Stein argued, proud that he kept the bitterness from his voice.

"Is that truly what you believe?" Death asked, sounding strangely sad.

"Of course. Why shouldn't I? It's the truth," Stein said honestly. No matter how much he hated it.

"It was never my intention to take Spirit from you. Yes, every Reaper has his favored Death Scythe, the strongest Death Scythe of that generation, but that doesn't mean we can't use any Weapon around us. If both of you wish that I never wield Spirit again, then I won't," Death offered solemnly.

"No!" Spirit cried, paling at Death's words, but then his pleading eyes flew frantically to his. "Please, Franken. Don't make me choose between you, not now, not after everything."

His jealousy and bitterness melted away with his need to see Spirit happy, with the use of his given name for the second time, after years without hearing it. "Of course not. The way it's been is fine. Lord Death allows me to use you much of the time, and uses you himself when he has need." 

"No, Stein. It is you who allows me to use Spirit, when I have direct need of him, and he himself who both allows us to wield him. It's a partnership. The only difference is, he's a Weapon with two wielders, a Reaper and a Meister," Death carefully corrected.

Stein blinked at the implication that he had more power in the situation than Lord Death himself. Spirit having more power than both of them wasn't nearly as mentally jarring. He reached for the screw as his world view shifted, but then stopped, when he saw Spirit stiffen, though he made no attempt to physically stop him this time.

"I need time to think. I want to be alone for awhile. And to talk to Marie," Stein proposed, not wanting to drive a wedge between them, but needing space. It belatedly occurred to him that maybe Marie didn't view him in the same light as he viewed her, that maybe she was in love with him, that she didn't just love him as a friend.

 _Was that why she attacked Julia?_ In a panic, he reached for the screw and turned it, the shiver of pain bringing him focus.

"What's wrong?" both Spirit and Lord Death demanded.

"Marie. What if she loves me?" Stein rasped, terrified by the prospect of her hating him for not loving her, of losing his only close friend, his sole confidant.

"I can speak to her first," Spirit and Death offered simultaneously, word for word.

Stein's eyes widened. "Resonance. You're both in resonance, even now, even just speaking." The jealousy returned with a vengeance, a roaring, screaming, raging green-eyed beast in his head, wanting to rend and tear and bite and claw. He turned toward the door, needing to escape, to get out now, but cold shadow and warm arms wrapped around him from either side.

"We're sorry. We didn't mean to hurt you," Lord Death apologized.

"Please don't go. Not like this," Spirit begged.

The resonance was gone, not replaced by the cacophony of discord that shrieked and screamed like a banshee in his head, but by the same intent and purpose but different thoughts and words, feelings and actions.

He stopped straining against their dual hold. "It's fine," he said, his automatic, preprogrammed response, the lie he daily told the world. It wasn't fine, ever. Nothing was fine. He was ugly and broken and unwanted, in a world that was beautiful and perfect and whole.

Death sighed heavily, the first use he'd made of his lungs since forming them for him. "No, it's far from fine, Stein. But if you give us time, if you let us help you, it can be. Just don't run from us. You can be alone to think, but not to brood. You can speak to Marie, to Sid, to Nygus, to anyone you trust. But you are not allowed to harm yourself, or to run away. If you feel yourself about to do either, I want you to talk to someone, to let them help you. Promise me. If you promise me, if you swear as Spirit's Meister, then we'll let you go now. But you have to swear."

 _Not be allowed to hurt myself?_ The thought was so foreign it was terrifying.

Stein looked over at Death, ready to argue that he couldn't agree to that, when he saw the pain in his all too human eyes. His gaze flew to Spirit's face, and he saw the same pain there.

"I won't hurt myself, I promise," he swore instantly.

They looked expectantly at him.

"And… and I won't run. I'll talk. To Marie, to someone," he promised, meaning it.

"Alright. Then if you want to, you can go. If you want one or both of us to speak to Marie first, we will. Or you can. Whatever is better for you," Lord Death said.

"What will the two of you be doing, when I'm gone?" Stein asked, realizing after he said it how suspicious and insecure, jealous and hurt he sounded.

"If you want, we won't speak to one another, until you return. We both have plenty we can do without associating with one another," Lord Death assured him.

Stein felt petty and small and selfish. "No! No, it's fine," he said automatically.

Spirit frowned and he immediately felt sheepish.

"No. I meant really this time. I don't want you avoiding one another because of my insecurities," he said sincerely.

The smile that lit Spirit's face was worth the twinge of pain those words had cost him.

"Alright then. You go do what you need to do, and we'll see you when you're ready," Lord Death assured him.

0 0 0

Death froze when he heard a voice coming from the Death Room, as he glided beneath the Guillotine Arches, and he listened as he advanced silently.

"I hadn't realized that Sid had already contacted you. But I promise you, this isn't some kind of Witch-hunt. We're not searching for traitors. We're searching for any friends Julia Albarn might have, simply because she needs them," Kid explained, the frustration in his voice palpable.

"We're sorry, Death the Kid, but there really isn't anyone like that here. Director Albarn was a competent, efficient leader, but a somewhat distant one. I honestly cannot think of a single person here that she is close enough to that we would call them her friend, myself included, and I've worked with her for years," Assistant Director Genevieve, replied.

"So there's no one? I'm sorry to hear that, but honestly not all that surprised. Thank you for speaking with me. Oh, and one more thing. Regardless of what you might have been told, whatever contingency plan has been put in place is merely temporary. Director Albarn _will_ be returning to the Middle Eastern branch as the Director once this matter is brought to a resolution. And at that time, this incident is to be put behind us. She _will_ be treated with the respect, loyalty and obedience she deserves for her years of faithful service to my father. Is that understood?" Kid demanded.

Death wasn't sure who was more startled, Genevieve or him. "Yes ,sir! Of course, sir! We looked forward to her exoneration and return," she was quick to agree.

"Excellent. End transmission," Kid said, and he turned away from the mirror, freezing when he saw him, a look of both guilt and rebellion flashing across his face.

"Hello, Father. I didn't realize you had entered," Kid greeted him.

"No, you didn't. You were quite busy. May I ask what that was all about, Son?" Death asked, careful to ensure his voice was filled with curiosity rather than censure.

He listened patiently as Kid explained their theory regarding Julia Albarn, that she wasn't malicious, but was instead mad.

"I see. In the future, Son, I'd appreciate it if you speak to me about matters of this magnitude, before countermanding one of my mandates with your own directive. That being said, I understand your passion, in this particular instance," Death scolded gently.

"I'm sorry, Father. I didn't mean to contradict you or appear to usurp your authority. You're right, I should have spoken to you first, but you were with Stein and Spirit and… How is Stein, Father?" Kid asked solicitously.

"Recovering, though it will be a long, torturous road, I'm afraid. But he's promised us he won't harm himself, or run away, so I'm optimistic," Death admitted. "And how do you feel, Son? About me and Spirit and Stein? Do you understand our intent, our resolve?"

"Of course. I've known you've loved both Stein and Spirit for years, Father. I'm glad you'll finally be able to be together. You will all be together, won't you? You've all agreed, haven't you?" Kid belatedly asked.

"Yes, Son, I believe we will be. Love is a wondrous, dangerous thing: it can be patient and healing, but also destructive beyond imagining. I only hope whatever feelings you might hold for a certain young Weapon are returned in kind, that he's good to you," Death fished.

Kid's face flushed and he looked away, but then he looked up again and met his eyes. "Soul and I feel the same way about one another. We're not quite sure where that might lead, yet, but no matter what happens, he'll always be one of my closest friends," Kid said confidently.

"I'm happy to hear that, Son. We all need friends like that. I think you might be right, in what you discovered about Julia. I hope you are, for Maka's sake, and even for Spirit's. But for Stein's sake, I'll be the one to make the final determination of whether or not it is safe to allow Julia Albarn to go free, or to return to her post as Director of the Middle Eastern Division, alright Son?" Death said firmly.

Kid's face flushed. "Yes, Father. Of course."

"Alright, then. Now, I believe you're supposed to be resting. Why don't you return to the Infirmary, so you can spend time with some of those precious friends of yours while you get the rest you need, in order to recuperate quickly and fully, alright?" Death urged.

"Alright. One last thing, Father. Has there been any word about Justin?" Kid asked, more fearfully than hopefully.

Death formed lungs just long enough to sigh. "No, I'm afraid not. We have every able bodied Weapon and Meister in this hemisphere looking for him, though. I'm certain we'll have news of him soon," he assured his son.


	15. Chapter 15 - Autonomous Weapons Battle

**These characters are under copyright by** **Atsushi Ōkubo, Squar Enix, Yen Press, Shōnen,** **  
Akatsuki Yamatoya.** **Madman Entertainment, Manga Entertainment, Funimation,** **and/or others. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.**

 **A/N:  
CAUTION: Vulgar language below, and both gay relations and Christianity discussed and reflected below in a way that might be upsetting or objectionable to some readers.**

 **This chapter details what happened to Justin Law when he followed the abductors' instructions in an to attempt to retrieve Death the Kid.**

Chapter 15 – Autonomous Weapons Battle: Duel to the Death?

Justin Law studied St. Mathew's Cathedral dispassionately. It was a beautiful building, made to superficially resemble one of the great European cathedrals he was used to seeing, but the weight of history was completely missing from its walls: there were no bullet or blast scars or burn marks, no record of centuries of wars fought around this stone edifice. He'd specifically chosen an ecclesiastical track for his iPod for his approach, in an attempt to superimpose greater depth of character than the building actually possessed onto the sadly modern structure.

He briefly wondered what Dr. Franken Stein and Reaper Death Scythe Spirit Albarn thought of the building and of him, as they viewed them from their distant vantage point. They likely shared his sentiment, that the building was too young for the import given it, but he was certain they likely thought that about him as well. At 17, surely he must be too young to head the European Division, too young to stage a one man rescue of Lord Death's son? Although it was just as likely that they weren't thinking of him at all, that their thoughts were solely focused upon retrieving Death the Kid.

Justin wished he'd had the chance to view the macabre display Giriko had so artfully laid out at the church. Maka Albarn and Soul Eater Evans had described it to him, of course; he'd insisted that they provide him with as much contextual detail as possible. The key to entering the head of any foe was understanding their thought processes, their actions and reactions to stimuli.

Their words had painted a vivid picture, of lead-framed stained glass, waxed and polished wooden pews, a gleaming altar, and an ornate silver chalice and matching silver plate, containing not the blood and body of Christ, wine and bread transformed through elaborate prayer, but Death the Kid's blood and a butchered hank of hair, a knotted snarl of his Lines of Sanzu, the white stripes Death's son so despised. And beneath the hair, a note: _"Unless you want me to send you the rest of the brat a piece at a time, send Justin Law to St. Mathew's Cathedral, alone, at 6 PM tonight, to negotiate the ransom terms for his release."_

That had been just under an hour ago. In a few short minutes, it would be 6 PM, time for him to meet with Giriko. Of course, there would be no talk of ransom, only spinning blades, violence and arrogant taunts. Justin was certain of that much. If Death the Kid was still alive, they'd have to find him through some other means. No, he was here tonight for one reason alone: to meet Giriko in battle yet again. As Soul Eater Evans had so eloquently warned him, _"Watch yourself. That freak really gets off on fighting you. He's got a hard on for you, man. Just don't kill him until you find out where Kid is."_

Ah, the naïve hopefulness of that most dangerous of combinations, youth and inexperience.

The organ music finally ended, to Justin's relief. It was time to listen to some Death Metal, time to get this party started.

He cranked up the volume and glanced at his watch. Two minutes to six. He'd timed it so he would reach the stairs at a minute to the hour and the top of the stone flight the following minute, so he could fling the heavy wooden doors open precisely at six, just as the clock in the bell tower began to chime.

His heart rate accelerated as he approached the stairs, increasing as he climbed them, reaching a crescendo along with the music, as he flung open the doors, ready to be attacked instantly, without warning, or to spar verbally with his oh so exhilarating foe. He lived for this, for the music, the battle. One without the other was incomplete, unsatisfying. The need for violence, for destruction, had always been an innate part of his soul.

For a moment he pictured his father's scowling visage, saw his lips moving as he cursed him, but then he turned up the volume just a hair more and the image shimmered like a mirage in the heat of the desert sun – it wavered and vanished.

Justin narrowly dodged the kick aimed at his head, the spinning blades sheering through boots and jeans specially designed with their owner in mind. "Pay attention when I'm talking to you, Priest!" Giriko demanded, as Justin effortlessly read his lips.

 _Ah._ Apparently Giriko had shouted a challenge or some form of banal greeting which he'd missed, due to his preoccupation and the volume of his music.

"Eloquent as always," Justin prodded, loving the sneer of annoyance that immediately darkened Giriko's face. He was so easy to taunt; he responded so dramatically to the simplest insults. This was going to fun. But first, he must fulfill his duty, and make at least a pretense of enquiry regarding Lord Death's son.

"Where is Death the Kid? What ransom do you want in order to release him to us unharmed," Justin dutifully stated.

Giriko laughed wildly. "Unharmed? Seriously? Are you blind as well as stupid? Or didn't they tell you about the masterpieces I left in the alley, in the church? Just whose blood did you think that was, Priest?"

"I meant without further harming him," Justin clarified, even as he frowned mentally for misspeaking in Giriko's presence. He refused to let his opponent see he had scored a verbal hit, when his physical one had missed.

"I've got no further interest in that brat, that pathetic weakling. You should have heard him screaming and begging. And he calls himself a Reaper! He pissed me off. He wasn't any challenge at all," Giriko complained, sounding genuinely annoyed.

"If he's no longer amusing to you, you should give him back. I mean, you want us to see what you did to him, right? All the cuts you made? Art is nothing if no one gets to see it, to appreciate it," Justin encouraged. If Dr. Franken Stein and Reaper Death Scythe Spirit Albarn had been close enough to hear, they would likely have been furious, but would have thought he'd said so merely to encourage the Autonomous Weapon he faced into providing even a hint as to Death the Kid's location. They would never have suspected he was sincere.

He doubted even Lord Death knew him well enough to know that. No one ever got close enough to him to know his thoughts. Because in the end, they were all potential enemies: they might all turn against him, with or without warning, and try to kill him, the way his father had, the way his village had. But Lord Death had saved him, and given him his life, a home, a meaning, a purpose, so he would follow him until he was betrayed by him and the DWMA and he would rescue Lord Death's son, or more likely, recover whatever was left of his body.

"That's what I like about you, Priest. The only thing I like about you, actually. You get it. You cut and they bleed. You're the attacker and they're the victim. We're the ones with the power, you and me. If you only weren't so fucking annoying with all that sanctimonious crap you spout all the time, you'd actually be OK to hang out with sometime," Giriko claimed, even as he tried to chop his head off.

"But you came here to see the brat, right? Well, I've got a little show for you. It's more effective if you can hear, so you might want to crank the music down a bit, but it's not like you'll need subtitles for this," Giriko gloated, as he surprisingly pulled away, as he reached into his pocket.

Unexpectedly, the lights went out.

Justin quickly lowered the volume of his music, so his headphones wouldn't give away his position, so he could hear Giriko's approach, but then there was light, reflected off a white screen at the front of the church, where the altar should have been; he hadn't even had time to notice it before.

He gasped in spite of himself, as an image of Death the Kid appeared. Lord Death's son was such a mess he wouldn't even have recognized him, were it not for the distinctive Lines of Sanzu, though his face wasn't cut. It was the only part of him that wasn't. There was blood everywhere, and his clothes were sliced to ribbons, along with his skin and flesh, his chest and stomach covered in vomit as well.

 _Death the Kid tensed, his expression of fear and desperation changing to one of terror, hopelessness and despair, as Giriko strode into the frame._

" _Well, look who's awake!" Giriko said._

Justin read his lips effortlessly, even as he heard the words above his music.

Death the Kid cringed and cowered, and predictably, his fear made Giriko laugh.

" _You're almost as entertaining as Justin Law, but sadly, a little too young for my tastes. And you don't have that ever so infuriating and appealing air of calm and complete lack of interest that drives me wild. One day soon, I'm going to make that man scream and beg, just like you did, but I'll get to play a much better game with him. I may be many things, but I'm no pedophile._

" _In a few years though, I just might be visiting you again, once I've tired of Justin. He's my prize for doing all this, you know. I'm going to finally get to fuck that superior smirk right off that saintly Priest's face," Giriko claimed crassly, rubbing himself through his pants._

Justin fought a gasp, as his heart suddenly began to race and he felt that odd tingle in his scrotum that only battle with Giriko had ever produced. That was why he'd been so eager to fight him again, to experience that again, to understand why Giriko of all his many foes actually made him feel something other than the self-loathing he masked daily with indifference, with superiority, with arrogance.

But strangely, this time, there was anger as well, or something akin to it, and Justin was surprised to realize it was directed not only at Giriko, but at Death the Kid as well. He'd been excited, then angry, then excited again. _Why?_

 _Giriko laughed again, as he approached his chained and helpless prisoner. "Now, now, don't look so terrified. I told you, I'm not into kids. But there is a little something I need from you to stoke the fire. Sure, I decorated the alley with your blood, and left your skull pin there so those idiots from the DWMA would instantly know the blood was yours, even with the remnant of Esmeralda's Soul Protect we left in the alley to conceal the battle. The shadow's set now to lift the when someone with a powerful Soul Wavelength uses any kind of light. But the blood and skull aren't enough. We need to put the pressure on. If you're holding someone for ransom, you need the folks back at home terrified enough that they pay up quickly, right? So I need a_ _little something to up the ante a bit," he claimed, as he activated the chainsaw in his left hand with a malicious grin._

 _Kid strained and struggled against his chains as the viciously spinning blade approached his face._

" _Not my face, my eyes! Please not my face!" Death the Kid begged._

 _Giriko laughed again. "Relax, kid. I'm not going to destroy that pretty face of yours. Though it would be interesting to see if that Reaper healing power could restore your sight if I blinded you."_

 _Terror overwhelmed Kid, and he started thrashing wildly against his chains._

" _Jesus kid! Calm down! Don't piss me off. You nearly made me cut my own arm off, there. Just hold still, you little prick. Hey now. That's an idea."_

 _Kid froze as a knee pressed between his legs near his groin, the latest whirring blade not quite touching him._

Justin felt it again, that strange flash of anger. It made no sense. Giriko wasn't harming Death the Kid, merely pinning him, and again, the anger wasn't solely directed at Giriko, but at Death the Kid as well. In fact, if anything, he was angrier at Death the Kid, which made no sense.

" _Ha, I knew that would make you stop struggling. Now, unless you want to be singing soprano, you'll let me get what I came for," Giriko urged._

 _Kid was shaking wildly, but otherwise not moving, as Giriko grabbed a fistful of his hair and sawed it off._

" _Huh. What a mess. Guess I should have used scissors, but you can still see those distinctive stripes, which is what I needed. You're lucky. At least the hair will grow back. Next time, I might take an ear or a finger or something worse," Giriko taunted as he backed away._

 _Kid stared, trembling, but then he spoke, though stutteringly. "My f…father is going to k…kill you, and S…Spirit is going to g…gorge himself on your s…soul, you s…sick b…bastard."_

 _Giriko laughed again, long and wildly. "Hurry up and grow up, kid. I can't wait to teach that mouth of yours some manners. Someone's got to teach you to suck, not bark and bite, right?" And then he was lunging forward, and Kid was cowering away._

The anger Justin had felt before flared into fullblown rage, but with it was pain, the familiar, terrifying pain he'd only felt twice before, but would never forget: the pain of betrayal.

 _There was more wild, gleeful laughter, and Giriko left the frame._

 _Kid sagged in the chains and began to shake with obvious sobs._

Justin felt himself sag as well, with relief. That film had been driving him insane with bloodlust, and he had no idea why. He had no reason to hate Death the Kid, and he'd never actually hated Giriko: he'd fought him at first because it was his duty to do so, and thereafter because he enjoyed their battles so much. More than once he'd held back from dealing what could easily have been a fatal blow, instead tempering it, so he drew blood but didn't kill. He could have easily killed Giriko a number of times during their final battle in the war against the Kishin Asura, but he hadn't.

The screen went dark and Giriko entered his field of view. "What do you think of your supposedly mighty Reaper pals now, Priest? It was pathetically easy to make that one break, and seeing this little film of mine, Death is going to piss himself. Just wait until Esmeralda starts shipping the brat to him a piece at a time. She will even if she gets what she wants, Mifune and Angela and the grimoire. She owes that little fucker for the humiliation she caused him. It would have been easier if you killed that sword prick and that Witch brat for us, but regardless, Esmeralda will, and Death will lose. Have you finally realized you're on the wrong side?"

Justin hid his surprise with the ease of long practice concealing his emotions. _Mifune and the Witch Angela and a grimoire? Abducting Death's son was to goad us into attacking Mifune and the Witch he protects, so the Witch Esmeralda could obtain a grimoire? At least now there is motive to this madness. But how did Death the Kid humiliate the Witch Esmeralda?_

Giriko attacked, and Justin momentarily lost the luxury of time to think. It was amazing, the heights Giriko could kick to, the brutal and deadly arcs of his whirring blades. They were a music all their own. Justin was glad the volume of his own music was still low enough for him bask in the sound.

But then a familiar, terrifying figure wavered in his peripheral vision, and he turned his music up again, erasing the ghostly shape from his past before it could fully form.

He frowned, and realizing he'd actually let the expression touch his face, the frown deepened. He was getting distracted. It had been a while since that had last happened. The last time he had fought Giriko, in fact, while the DWMA was battling the Witch Arachne and the Kishin Asura. It had been particularly hard to concentrate upon his battle then, with the Kishin's Madness Wavelength propagating everywhere. He'd actually had to turn the volume on his iPod to maximum, and he'd still seen ghostly images of his father, actually even heard his voice, for the first time in four years.

The memory had him reaching for the volume control again. He cranked it up to maximum, drowning out even the memory of that heart-stopping voice.

He winced as a bloody furrow was cut in his cassock, striping his side and staining the cloth deep crimson. Fortunately, the gash wasn't deep, more an annoyance than a danger, though the bite of pain was a welcome wake up call. Giriko might not be the most elegant of fighters, but he certainly had the potential to be deadly. He needed to pay better attention.

"Where is Death the Kid?" Justin demanded, as he launched a flurry of attacks of his own, the bulk of which Giriko blocked with his blades, instead of dodging.

"Beyond your reach, Priest," Giriko taunted.

That gave Justin a moment's pause. "I hope you don't mean you killed him. Lord Death won't be pleased with me if you've killed his son."

"Huh. And here I thought you didn't care. I mean, after all, you were told to come alone, and you brought both a Meister and a Weapon, and not just any pair, but the strongest Meister to ever graduate from the Academy and Lord Death's own personal Death Scythe. Of course, they've got problems of their own to deal with. Esmeralda's got more than a few tricks and treats for the two of them," Giriko goaded.

 _Damn them._ _They'd sworn they would be undetectable._ "So punish them for that, or me, not Death's son."

"For a music lover, you sound like a broken record. What's Death the Kid ever done for you that you're so eager to save him?" Giriko asked, his voice flaring with annoyance, as he slashed with his right foot and then his left, and then flipped, nearly catching him in the right shoulder with one of his blades.

Justin was impressed in spite of himself as he dodged the blow. Giriko was one of the most flexible, limber fighters he'd ever faced.

He winced as Giriko's attack hit the pew in front of him instead, and tore a huge chunk out of the artificially aged wood. The Cathedral would likely be destroyed before their battle was done. It was new, but beautiful, an artifice dedicated to God. The wrong God, of course, to the Christian God he despised, the one his father had followed ever so faithfully. He wore his cassock and inverted cross in mockery of that God, and the man who had been such an ardent, devoted follower that he'd attempted to offer his own only son up as a human sacrifice to Him.

"I bet you don't even realize the significance of us choosing this location for the meeting, do you, Priest?" Giriko taunted, as he tried to cut him in half at with his left leg, not horizontally, at the waist, but vertically, from head to toe, giving him a front row view of those long, limber legs and the tightly contained bulge in between.

Justin's heart pounded as he realized Soul Eater Evans' vulgar claim was literally correct: Giriko really did have a hard on for him. Or at least for fighting him. For battle, cutting, blood.

A look of rapacious glee lit Giriko's face. "Well, well. Aren't you breaking the rules, Priest. You're not supposed to covet anything, right? Especially not my dick."

Justin froze for a split second at his words, at being caught looking, and paid for it, as he didn't quite back away from Giriko's latest attack in time, and his current kick sent him flying across the aisle and crashing into the pews on the opposite side, towards the front of the cathedral, near the altar. He barely scrambled away in time as Giriko splintering the pews on either side of him.

 _Death the Kid would appreciate the symmetry of his attack._

The errant thought startled Justin long enough for Giriko to score his left leg with the blades protruding from his right boot, as he dived towards the open space in front of the altar.

"He's here, isn't he? You're actually holding him here. Or were. You've moved him, of course," Justin deduced, knowing he was right, reluctantly forming the guillotine blades on his arms. He had waited to produce his own weapon, trying to draw out the combat long enough for Dr. Franken Stein and Reaper Death Scythe Spirit Albarn to intervene, to aid him in capturing Giriko, or to find Death the Kid, but if he didn't go on the offensive soon he might actually lose this battle.

Giriko laughed in his face. "Seriously? Wrong answer, Priest. No, this is where Esmeralda chose her victims, those four dozen people she slaughtered, the most pious and righteous assholes she could find. Not the rich bastards who think they can buy their way to salvation, but the stupid fuckers who actually believe in all this crap," Giriko said disdainfully, as he lashed out again, not at him, but at the cloth draped altar behind the screen, obliterating it with a single kick.

"Why? Why kill them and go to all the trouble of blaming Mifune for it, and then make it obvious it was you by the way you cut Death the Kid's hair, by what you did to him in the alleyway?" Justin asked, honestly curious.

Giriko grinned, a manic look of delight. "You liked that, huh? Did you get to see it yourself, my artwork? I painted that for you, Priest. You should have heard that kid scream as I cut and cut and cut."

 _A Kishin Egg. He's finally gone fully Kishin_ , Justin thought with surety, but when he tried to use Soul Detect, he saw nothing. _Magic. That Witch's magic is here. Is Death the Kid still here? Inside the Cathedral? Under it? Is he still alive? Even Lord Death can't detect his soul._

He froze as a hand clamped around his bicep, certain he was about to lose his arm, cursing himself for becoming distracted by thoughts of their hostage, but the blades he expected never emerged. Instead, Giriko merely yanked him around to face him.

"I said fight me or go home, you pussy! Look at me when I'm talking to you, you fucker! I know you can't hear me with that damned music, but you'd better at least read my lips. I'm not going to repeat myself again!" Giriko fumed.

"My, my, such language. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" Justin scolded as he pulled free and slashed with his right blade, scoring a razor thin slice across Giriko's chest, slicing apart his shirt.

Giriko laughed in his face. "That bitch has been dead eight centuries, Priest. Or did you forget and think you were talking to my current host's body? That asshole might have been a sick fucker, but I love this body! These legs of his just won't quit, and just look at our ass! This body of his was just made for fucking."

To his shame, Justin had looked, had thought that more than once. For a moment he saw his father again, in spite of the music being at full volume, reminding him that the shame was his father's, and his father's Christian God's, not his. Thanks to Lord Death, he'd accepted who and what he was. It was this place, this damned cathedral reeking of his father's God. The only God Justin believed in was Lord Death. He was Lord Death's instrument, his Weapon, no other God's. He wore these clothes in mockery of his father's piety, not in honor of it.

"Careful, Priest. Aren't you in danger of tarnishing that oh so shiny soul of yours?" Giriko goaded.

0 0 0

"My soul isn't the one in danger," Justin replied to his latest taunt, with a smug confidence that made Giriko want to cut and cut and cut and watch him bleed.

"Serious? You think I give a shit what happens to my soul?" Giriko scoffed.

"You should. I'm not talking about something ludicrous, like threatening you with hellfire and damnation. I'm talking about the fact that you're losing your identity, your personality," Justin calmly rebutted.

"What the hell are you getting at, Priest?" Giriko challenged, confused by the abrupt change. For a moment it had looked like the Priest had been totally losing it, there had been a flash of panic in his eyes that didn't belong on that serene face, but then it was gone as if it had never been. It hadn't been the first time the Priest was distracted during their battle, but he'd make damned good and sure it would be the last.

"It's obvious. With each soul you've tried to subsume, to control, they've influenced you as well. That's why you're not a Kishin yet. Their purity has kept you from falling," Justin asserted.

"Bullshit! They haven't influenced me in the slightest!" Giriko yelled, the thought infuriating. As if his weak descendants were any match for him! He'd taken each one of their bodies over, hadn't he? "Stop talking out of your ass!"

"Alright. What's your favorite color?" Justin challenged.

The bizarre question almost made Giriko laugh, but sure, he'd play. At least the Priest was focusing on him now. "It's r…rainbow," Giriko stuttered, horrified by his own hesitation. His first thought had been "red", it was always red, the color of blood, but dozens of other voices, voices from long dead host bodies, had yelled in his head "green", "yellow" "blue", "orange", "purple", and not one of them had wanted him to say red, or even black or white, his second favorite colors. Black and white were the colors of death, and blood and death were all he knew, all he'd ever known.

"You see? And they haven't only influenced you in small ways like color, but in bigger ways, like the capacity for mercy," the Priest insisted ridiculously.

This time Giriko laughed in his face. "Mercy? I'm sorry, are you blind? I showed you the film. Did you fail to see what I did to Death's son?"

A dark shadow flickered in the infuriatingly placid, tranquil depths of those vivid blue eyes. "No. But so did he," he said confusingly.

"What the hell do you mean? Stop speaking in riddles, they piss me off," Giriko snapped.

"I mean that Death the Kid isn't blind. You didn't blind him. You threatened to, you taunted him, asked him whether he could heal from you ripping out his eyes with your chainsaw, but you didn't do it. You didn't even mark up his face at all, or cut off any limbs. You could have chopped him into pieces, right?" the Priest challenged.

"Don't think that was mercy, Priest. Esmeralda gave me strict guidelines for how much damage I could do. We wanted to piss Death off enough that he'd kill Mifune and Angela, and send you, his chosen warrior, to me as my reward, but not enough so that he'd figure out it was us and launch an entire Crusade against us, send every Meister and Weapon across the globe after us," Giriko explained.

Fury gripped Giriko. "Why the hell am I justifying myself to you? I'm the bad guy. I'm _supposed_ to be evil, right? You pious bastards are the ones who are supposed to explain your actions, every time your piss misses and hits the floor," Giriko snapped crassly.

"My, my. Such a vulgar, dirty mouth. You need someone to wash that mouth out," Justin rebutted.

"You think you're up to the task, Priest? You'd like that, wouldn't you? To stick your dick in my mouth, to wash it out with your cum?" Giriko taunted.

And there it was again, a flash of something in the Priest's eyes, like a rock tossed into a still lake, triggering ripples that spread outwards in concentric rings but then splashed back upon themselves as they hit the shore, causing a chaotic, choppy mess where once there had been placidity.

 _That's it, Priest. That's what I want to see: emotion, of any kind, even anger, but especially that. Carnal lust. Desire. All the things you've suppressed, hidden even from yourself._

"You're disgusting," Justin said, a split second too late, after a noticeable hesitation.

Giriko laughed, once again firmly in control, as he lashed out at the Weapon Meister with his left hand, narrowly missing his side, as Justin neatly evaded. "I don't think so. I think you're the one who's disgusting, spouting all that pious crap, and hiding your secret desires. I know why you are always so eager to fight me. Why you draw the battles out, why you hold back your strongest attacks, why you haven't truly tried to kill me yet," Giriko teased.

Justin froze, a look of panic flashing across his face, as he faltered in his attack.

 _Bullseye! I was right. He really_ has _been holding back._

"It's because you can still be saved," the Priest justified, as he aborted his current attack and drew back to a safer distance yet again.

Giriko lunged forwards and laughed in his face again. "Really? Is that what you truly believe, Priest?" he chuckled, as he caressed the perfect skin of Justin's chest under his cassock with the blade on his right forearm, leaving a beautiful, claiming red slash across his torso.

Justin gasped in shock and pain and stumbled back.

"You fight me because you enjoy touching me, as much as I enjoy touching you. You desire me, as much as I desire you," Giriko purred.

Justin's eyes lit with alarm and horror as he read his lips, and his hand fumbled frantically for his iPod. "No! That's not it at all!"

Giriko frowned until he heard the result. The music was so loud now that he could hear it clearly, and it wasn't the ecclesiastical or orchestral crap he'd been expecting, but Death Metal, playing so loudly now it was a wonder the Priest's ear's weren't bleeding from his eardrums shattering.

 _So that's it! He uses the music to keep all those hidden desires at bay, does he? Well then. Now he's made this too easy._

With a triumphant, malicious grin Giriko feinted an attack to the Priest's heart, and then ripped his opposite arm across the Priest's iPod, shattering it.

The Priest cried out and staggered at the sudden sensation of sound, as if he'd received a mortal blow, and then his hands began pawing frantically, shaking as they held the broken remains of the iPod, as if he were holding the body of a murdered child.

The mental victory feast turned to ashes in Giriko's mouth, as the Priest fell to his knees, dropping the shards and cupping his hands over his ears, as if trying to shield himself from the sudden absence of sound.

"Hey, what's wrong? Come on, it's only a damn iPod. You can always buy a new one. It's not like the world is ending," Giriko said awkwardly, feeling unaccountably and unaccustomedly guilty. _Was it a gift from someone important, someone dead?_ Irrationally he felt a burst of jealousy flare, and he was suddenly elated for smashing it.

Justin shook his head soundlessly, his eyes wide. He looked terrified.

"Come on. Knock it off! Don't you think you're overreacting?" Giriko snapped uncomfortably.

"You don't understand," Justin whispered, and then his eyes widened in horror and he clapped his hands over his mouth, as if speaking was a cardinal sin.

"What's wrong, damn it? It's not like you've taken a vow of silence of something right? I mean I've heard you speak before, when we fought. You did just a moment ago," Giriko reasoned.

Justin's eyes widened and he looked up, slowly removing his hands from his mouth. "Your voice…" he whispered.

"What? What's wrong with my voice?" Giriko snapped self consciously.

"It's beautiful," Justin said in wonder.

Giriko felt a moment's confusion, and a warm flush of pride and pleasure, which vanished, as Justin's eyes widened in horror and he shook his head wildly.

"No, I didn't mean that! I'm sorry!" He clutched his hands together in prayer. "Holy Father, forgive me for my sin! I swear I harbor no carnal thoughts for my enemy," he claimed, and then he clamped his hands over his mouth again, a look of self-loathing in his eyes, as if he'd just cursed God, not prayed to him.

"What the fuck? Liking my voice is some kind of sin? Just because… wait. Carnal thoughts?" Giriko's scowl transformed into a pleased grin. "You really have been harboring carnal thoughts about me?" he purred.

Justin's eyes widened at the change in tone, and he began backing away from him as if he was a leper or had the plague. Except a priest would administer to the sick. He was backing away from him because he was afraid of wanting him.

"You know, that whole bit about man not supposed to lie with man is a load of crap, right? That damn book of yours has whores eating with Christ, and don't tell me you think some guy who surrounds himself with twelve other guys who literally worship the ground he walks on isn't doing at least some of those disciples on the side. I know I would have been, if I was JC. But then, I don't claim to be the son of God. Although I have managed to live for over 800 years by possessing the bodies of my descendants, so I'm kind of an immortal, powerful being, you know?"

"That's not the God I believe in!" Justin roared, his voice a bizarre mix of fury and desperation. "But you, you're a sinner who's made the lives of your host bodies a living hell," Justin accused, standing, his body stiffening with new resolution.

"Hey! I behaved myself, restrained myself for 800 fucking years! I didn't kill anyone, I didn't even attack anyone. I pretended to be a good little sheep. They were the ones fucking up my soul, not the other way around. You said it yourself, right? All that color crap from before, remember?" Giriko defended.

"You probably made them suffer all kinds of lustful, unnatural thoughts," Justin argued.

"Unnatural? For you information, jackass, scientists have done study after study and determined that hundreds of species engage in homosexual relations, so don't come spouting to me your religious crap about how my preferences are unnatural," Giriko challenged. 

"You're a lot more like me than you want to admit, aren't you? You have the same carnal thoughts for me that I have for you. And those aren't your only urges. We both like cutting things, watching the blood flow," Giriko claimed confidently.

Justin paled and began shaking he head wildly. "No! No, you're wrong! I don't… I don't want to hurt anyone! I don't want to be a Weapon! I don't want to cut! I don't… I never liked it, never! I didn't!" Justin argued frantically.

"Methinks thou dost protest too much, Priest. What's the matter? Does it scare you, that need, that thrill you get, every time you carve someone up? You're letting that freak Stein influence you, aren't you? Now there's a man who knows the joy of cutting, he lives to dissect and vivisect, he's like a wolf, but Lord Death has him collared and heeled at his feet, like a whipped dog. You don't want to be like that. You're better than that. We're both better."

"Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord. I'm only human. I have no right to punish the wicked, if I'm steeped in sin like them. I have to remain chaste, pure, in order to do God's work," Justin insisted, but it sounded like he was reciting something he'd been told over and over, rather than something he believed, and there was a distant look on his face, like he wasn't even standing in front of him anymore, but was trapped somewhere else, deep inside his head.

"Damn, someone's brainwashed the hell out of you, haven't they, Priest? They haven't only collared you, they've all but neutered you too. We can't have that. You're no good to me neutered," Giriko said with a shudder at the thought of someone physically neutering the beautiful man, as well as psychologically doing so.

"Stop it! Stop speaking those poisoned, honeyed words! I can't… I can't…" The Priest fell to his knees and began singing, some fucked up hymn.

"Screw this! At least before you were listening to good music," Giriko said in disgust and renewed guilt. It was no fun trying to fight the man like this, a shaking, shivering mess. He looked around for some source of music, anything, but there was nothing. Which left just one option.

He lunged at the Priest, who didn't have time to even flinch away from the sudden, violent attack, as the edge of his hand came crashing down on the back of his head.


	16. Chapter 16 - Father: Forgive Me, for I

**These characters are under copyright by** **Atsushi Ōkubo, Squar Enix, Yen Press, Shōnen,** **  
Akatsuki Yamatoya.** **Madman Entertainment, Manga Entertainment, Funimation,** **and/or others. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.**

 **A/N:  
CAUTION: Vulgar language below, and Christianity discussed and reflected in a way that might be upsetting or objectionable to some readers.**

Chapter 16 – Father: Forgive Me, for I Have Sinned?

Justin awoke in heaven, the pure, clear bliss of sweet sound surrounding him: music, his lifeline, the anchor to his sanity, the one soothing constant in an inconstant and cruel world. He drank in the thundering sound and frowned in puzzlement. _Why is it Death Metal? I only listen to Death Metal when I'm fighting. I listen to Classical or Jazz when I'm sleeping._

He opened his eyes, allowing the sensory input of sight to steal attention away from his precious music, frowning at the unfamiliar ceiling. _Where am I?_

Justin reached for the familiar comfort of his iPod, frowning in confusion and then gasping in alarm when his seeking hands touched bare skin.

He bolted upright in the strange bed. _Where are my pajamas?_ He never slept naked: not because nudity was a sin, ever since Adam and Eve had realized their shame in the Garden of Eden, as his father believed, but because he loved the feeling of silk or satin against his bare skin. Thoughts of his father had him frantically reaching for the reassuring presence of headphones, but the feel was wrong. _They're not mine._

His eyes widened as he both saw and felt the bandage wrapped around his chest and side, and the reason for them became blatantly clear: _Giriko. I was battling Giriko, he destroyed my iPod and…_ His hand went to the back of his head, expecting to feel more bandages, or dried blood caking his hair, but there was nothing.

He frowned in confusion. _Giriko hit me. Why aren't I dead? Did he actually not use his blades? He always attacks with his blades!_

Justin eyed the room warily. It didn't look like either an Infirmary room or Dorm room at the DWMA.

 _But if I'm not there, where am I? Who brought me here? Who's been taking care of me? No, it must be them. No one else understands about my music. Only Lord Death and Dr. Franken Stein. I haven't told anyone else my vulnerability._

He stiffened at the sound of footsteps outside the closed door of the room. _Should I pretend to be sleeping, or unconscious?_

The door opened, taking away his options. His eyes widened in panic and he tried to leap from the bed, but instead his legs tangled in the sheets and he went sprawling onto the floor.

"Hey, careful! Here I went through all the trouble of treating your wounds, and you're going to reopen them if you keep flailing around like that," Giriko scolded, to Justin's consternation.

"What do you mean, you treated them?" Justin demanded, as he stood shakily, his left hand shielding his groin from Giriko's eyes. But for some reason Giriko wasn't taking advantage of his nudity and was instead focusing his attention on his face.

"Who do you think bandaged you, the Pope?" Giriko quipped sacrilegiously.

"Why do you say things like that?" Justin demanded indignantly, as he wrapped the sheet around himself.

"You look good in a toga. The Romans, now, there were a people who got it right: sex, food, wine and more sex. You know that's what you need, right? A good ass fucking. Some hot and cold running debauchery to get your blood flowing. You're too damned pale, Priest."

"Why aren't you trying to kill me?" Justin demanded.

Giriko snorted. "I never wanted to kill you. What's the fun in that? I just wanted to play with you. Mark you as mine. But enough about me. What's with you and the music? You completely cracked without it. You fell apart."

Justin shook his head in denial, terrified that his worst enemy knew his weakness.

"I bet I can guess. You use it to drown out the voices, right? All the people who ever told you what a monster you were.

"I bet your parents were terrified of you, weren't they? They wanted a perfect little son, and instead they got an abomination. Those guillotine blades of yours, those aren't a humane and restrained weapon, something used to protect. Those are meant to destroy, to behead your enemies, not capture them. Mommy and Daddy thought you were a freak, right, a punishment by God for their sins? But they took it out on you, as if you'd asked to be born that way."

Justin stared, frozen in shock, completely at Giriko's mercy, and astonished to find he apparently truly had mercy. "How could… How did… Who told…?" _I've been betrayed, by Lord Death, by Dr. Franken Stein, as I always knew I would be._

"What, you think I couldn't figure it out? You think I had it any easier than you? Being born like this, chainsaws under my skin everywhere, centuries before anyone even knew what a chainsaw was? I was eleven when they first appeared. Do you know how my loving family reacted, when I ran to my mother and father, terrified by these blades? I'd show you the scars – nothing scars quite like a barbed flail – but that was quite a few vessels ago. I was almost dead by the time I finally attacked him back. All I could think about was that I was dying, covered in blood, and that you can't hold a whip without arms, right?" Giriko challenged.

The imagery made Justin want to vomit. The memories of his own torment brought him to his knees.

"My father beat me with a bat and then drowned me," he whispered. "He called it baptizing me: he said it was the only way to drive the Devil out. He threw me in the river, raving about how Satan had gotten hold of me, and he had to exorcise him. He held me under, spewing all kinds of hateful things, about me, about my mother, begging for me to repent the sin of my birth, like he thought God might wash the blades away. I was struggling and fighting. I didn't want to die, but I couldn't hurt him. Not because he was my father, but because he was too big, too strong. I fought so hard to control my blades, but I was so afraid, and they emerged again and…"

"So you killed your Pops too, huh? Those fuckers deserved it," Giriko said with a satisfied smirk.

"It was self defense," Justin was quick to claim.

"And from the fact that you're working for the DWMA, I guess they believed you, right? Whereas me, they hunted like I was some kind of rabid wolf. My uncle, my father's older brother, made me his own personal vendetta. But I got even with him. I possessed his oldest son, and every kid in that branch of the family tree, down to this one, whenever my current body starts to get too old," he crowed.

"You thrive off the pain of others," Justin accused.

"You're damned right I do," Giriko agreed.

"That's not right. That body you inhabit, the soul it already contains…" Justin began, but was cut off.

"Oh please! You think I'm bad? You should see what this fucker was like. Talk about sadistic. At least I'm no pedophile. I only wish I'd found out sooner. I would have possessed this bastard years ago. I may be a lot of things, but at least I never hurt kids. Well, not any who don't work for the DWMA, anyway," Giriko claimed, and then he frowned.

"Crap! You've got to be fucking kidding me! So that's why I tied the brat spread-eagle like that, sliced him up while he was restrained, even though it's no fun when they're not fighting back. You bastard! That was you, wasn't it, trying to get out to play? You sick fucker. You almost got loose, didn't you?" Giriko demanded, glaring, but he wasn't facing Justin anymore.

"I told the rest of you to keep an eye on him, didn't I? What game are you playing? You think by letting him be in charge for a while things would be better? That maybe the rest of you could go free? Idiots! I told you, we only have the one body between us. You want to die, go right ahead: jump ship, be my guest. But this body is mine. I stole it and I'm keeping it," Giriko fumed.

Justin realized he wasn't the one Giriko was talking to any longer. He focused on Giriko's Soul Wavelength and stared in horror and fascination. There wasn't the single pulsing, twisting soul, flickering on the verge of becoming a Kishin Egg as he'd seen before. He realized now there were nearly three dozen souls, all inhabiting the single body. Of the 31 souls, one was already a Kishin Egg, but only one.

"Hey Priest. You can perform exorcisms, right? Can you get rid of this asshole for us? The rest of us are usually fine together, in spite of what I just said: when given the choice of immortality, of living like this together with us or dying, they all chose to join us. Frankly, at this point, even if we had enough bodies for everyone, I don't think we could live without each other anymore, but this sick bastard Jared has been literally driving us crazy, every since we possessed him," Giriko claimed.

To Justin's astonishment, as if to verify his fantastic claim, thirty of the souls reformed and coalesced back into a single, large, pulsating, amorphous, peaceful sky blue soul, leaving the smaller purple Kishin apart, like the twilight that seeks to stain the evening sky and plunge daylight into the shadow of the twisted, bloody madness of the Moon. Even as Justin stared, intrigued and entranced, the Kishin attacked the larger, purer combined soul.

The effect on Giriko was instantaneous and terrifying. He fell to his knees, grabbing the cloth of his shirt, over his chest, gasping, as if he was having a heart attack. "How the hell can you have gotten strong enough to…? No! We won't let you!"

Justin watched helplessly as a battle raged for control of Giriko's body, like the Madness in Dr. Franken Stein that constantly tried to overcome him. The difference was, Stein's own soul was tainted. Nothing could be done for him, short of killing him. It wasn't possible to exorcise part of a soul. But this was more like a demonic possession.

Justin suddenly realized he wasn't helpless at all. This, he could fix. All he needed to do was cut the Kishin soul off from the others and expel it.

It didn't matter that Giriko was the DWMA's enemy, or what he'd done to Kid. Here was a soul that could be saved from the Kishin's Madness. And if this worked, maybe he could even fine tune it somehow and use it on people like Dr. Franken Stein, and prevent them from ever falling from grace. It could change the course of their war against the return of the Kishin, the fear of it emerging again.

This wasn't something he could use his blades for, not without killing the body housing Giriko and the others. For the first time in his life, he was thankful that he was the son of a reverend, that he'd been force-fed the Bible by a man obsessed with the Devil and convinced it was inside his son, that he'd been on the receiving end of a number of exorcisms, in a vain attempt to purge Satan from his body. Those ancient words had been powerless to 'cure' him, but they would be able to expel the Kishin soul, he was certain of it, with the power of his Soul Wavelength behind them. Justin began incanting in Latin, careful to focus upon the single tainted soul, not the conjoined mass soul.

The Kishin flared brightly, drowning out the others in a bright flash of violet, and suddenly Giriko was attacking him, his chainsaws glinting.

Justin immediately slipped on the headphones, even as he countered the first blow, confidence flooding him as he heard the familiar, empowering screeching thunder of Death Metal surrounding him. _This is why I exist. This is why I was born, Father. Not as a monster, an abomination against your God, but as an instrument of Lord Death, a tool to fight against the true monsters of this world, against the Kishin._

Peace flooded him, as every movement became a dance, a dance of death, of cleansing holy light, as the strength of his soul empowered the ancient words until they became an almost physical manifestation, as they wrapped around the Kishin and dragged it from the body it had been born into, until it floated and bobbed freely.

Justin opened his mouth to eat it, but he was tackled.

 _No! I let down my guard and now Giriko…_ He expected to feel pain, the whirring blades of Giriko's chainsaw to rip into his throat, his arms, but instead, he was pinned to the floor by Giriko's weight.

"What are you, stupid? I've been fighting and repressing that fucker for years. Talk about evil incarnate. Trust me, Weapon or not, you don't want to eat Jared. It would be too damned dangerous. Can you use your blade on him? Slice him and dice him? Just don't let him possess you," Giriko proposed, as he struggled against him.

Justin couldn't hear a word, but he could read his lips. He stopped trying to free himself. "I can do that," he agreed.

The warmth and relief in Giriko's formerly panicked brown eyes made Justin's heart race.

He frowned when Giriko didn't get off him.

"Why aren't…?"

"Because I finally have you exactly where I wanted you," Giriko purred. And then he kissed him.

Justin was so astonished, he didn't try to turn his face away, and then, when he felt Giriko's surprisingly soft, shockingly warm lips on his own, he lay there, motionless, allowing Giriko to continue the kiss.

When Giriko pulled away, he couldn't restrain a yelp of protest.

Giriko frowned down at him in confusion. "Wait. I thought you didn't like it. But… Look, do you want me to kiss you, or don't you, Priest?"

"I'm not a priest. I'm a sinner, just like you," Justin argued.

"Good," Giriko said with a smirk.

For the first time, the thundering music in his ears frustrated Justin. He wanted to hear Giriko's beautiful voice. He pulled off the headphones, and reached down for the iPod, frowning, as his hand hovered over it.

Giriko frowned back. "Right. You can't live without that damned music, can you?" he grumbled.

"No. It's not that. It's just… I'm not sure where the off button is. I only ever control the volume in battle. I've never actually turned one of these off before. But I want to be able to hear you," Justin admitted sheepishly.

Giriko's eyes widened, and then a slow smile spread across his face, unlike anything Justin had ever seen. There was still lust in his eyes, but now there was tenderness as well.

"Too bad, Sinner. Because I've got other plans for my mouth right now," Giriko claimed, as he leaned in for another kiss.

"Wait. Stop. I shouldn't be doing this. You're still holding Kid hostage, you and Esmeralda," Justin insisted, though it took nearly all his willpower to remember his duty, his mission.

"Tch. Yeah, about that… We don't actually have him anymore. He escaped from us before the ransom rendezvous. That's why I ditched Esmeralda. She screwed up, and tried to blame me for it. I mean, she was the one who warded the place, right? So if someone was able to detect him and get him out, that was her fuck up. But she wouldn't admit to it. Frankly, I just played along long enough to catch you. I don't give a rat's ass about her or that damned grimoire she was after. I just wanted to fight you again. Well, fight, fuck, whatever."

"You're lying," Justin claimed, hating that the thought actually hurt. Giriko was his enemy, their enemy. What did he expect? "If the DWMA already rescued him, they would have contacted me before I went to the ransom drop."

"You think you have all the answers. But what if it wasn't you, wasn't them? We're pretty sure it was the Witch Angela and that annoying, self-righteous bodyguard of hers. You should have seen the screeching tantrum Esmeralda threw. And I thought Medusa and Arachne were dangerous.

"So, are we good now? Come on! You people actually signed a treaty with Medusa, to work against Arachne, even though you knew she was possessing the body of that little girl at the time. I'd never sink low enough to possess a kid, or work with someone who would, so don't get all pious and sanctimonious on me now, Sinner o' mine. Now will you shut up about Death's son and let me kiss you some more, or maybe fuck you?" Giriko challenged bluntly.

Every hesitation and rational argument fell from Justin's head, as that sinful mouth hovered over his own. He grabbed Giriko by a handful of shirt and pulled him in for a kiss, consequences and his soul be damned.


	17. Chapter 17 - Divination: Mirror, Mirror

**These characters are under copyright by** **Atsushi Ōkubo, Squar Enix, Yen Press, Shōnen,** **  
Akatsuki Yamatoya.** **Madman Entertainment, Manga Entertainment, Funimation,** **and/or others. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.**

Chapter 17 – Divination: Mirror, Mirror on the Wall?

It wasn't easy leaving Spirit, even for a short while, but Lord Death had responsibilities to the other Weapons and Meisters around the world, not only the two he loved. The fate of one in particular was weighing heavily upon his mind and soul: there had still been no trace of Justin, no word, no sign of what had happened to him, beyond the obvious fact that he'd been abducted.

To his surprise, Mifune had offered to help find the missing Weapon Meister. He claimed he knew a Witch who might be able to help them, that it was her Divination spell that had led him and Angela to Kid, in spite of the powerful Soul Protect wards concealing his prison.

Since this Witch had no personal ties to Justin or his captors or any of them, the way the Witch had ties to Mifune, Mifune told them that Crona would be needed for the spell or incantation or whatever it was to work, or someone else who was close to Justin, and that it would help to have something that belonged to him, particularly an object of some importance to him. Mifune offered to get in contact with her, if the DWMA would guarantee her safety, in spite of her being a Witch.

Death had agreed, of course. He no longer held enmity for all Witches.

"Lord Death? You wanted to see me?" Crona asked hesitantly, from the archway leading to the Death Room.

"Ah yes. Please come in, Crona. I wanted to talk to you about something important. We think we might have a way to locate Justin," Death told them.

"Really? Thank goodness! I've been so worried about him!" Crona cried, entering the Death Room without hesitation, their former reticence vanished.

"Mifune, the bodyguard of the Witch Angela, knows another Witch who he says can help us. But that Witch needs a friend of Justin's, and something belonging to him, to cast her spell," Death explained.

"A… a Witch?" Crona asked fearfully, stiffening and clamping their fingers tightly on their bicep.

"A good Witch, Crona, not one like your mother. She's not going to hurt you or do anything bad. You have my word I would never let a Witch harm you," Death reassured them. "If there's another person who is close to Justin, we can use them as the focus instead, but I thought, since you were already here, and well, Justin really hasn't ever been close to anyone before. He's a loner. That's both the weakness and the strength of an Autonomous Weapon."

"No, it's fine. Of course I'll help. What do you need me to do?" Crona asked, fear in their voice, but a steel band of determination as well.

"I'm not exactly sure. First we needed to know you were willing. As for the object, we have Justin's motorcycle. So I'll let Mifune know we're ready. Come with me," Death instructed.

Crona trailed after Death, to the Infirmary. Death could hear raised voices as he approached the open door.

"And I'm telling you, this is stupid! There's no reason I shouldn't be able to leave," Soul snapped.

"Soul, stop giving Dr. Bryant a hard time. He isn't saying anything Stein didn't already tell you," Kid ordered.

"I'd think you'd be the last person to argue against leaving. Don't you want to be back in your own house, in your own room?" Soul challenged.

"No, I'd rather be here. I thought that would be obvious. You and Patty and Liz are here," Kid replied, causing Death to form a mouth under his mask and smile.

"Did you hear that, Tsubaki? A God like me, and he doesn't even mention me. I told you he's got it bad," Black*Star teased.

"At least he mentioned Liz and Patty. It would have been really cold if he didn't say their names too," Maka joined in.

Death entered the room in time to see his son looking extremely flustered, his face flushing a deep red.

"Father!" Kid said, attempting to get out of bed, but he was quickly stopped by Dr. Bryant.

"Hello, Kid. Dr. Bryant is right. You shouldn't be getting out of bed," Death agreed, verbally supporting the young doctor.

He looked around the room at all Kid's friends, the recovering Weapons and Meisters, and Mifune and Angela. "I'm actually here to speak with Mifune," he said, as he approached the swordmaster's bed. "Crona has agreed to assist us, and we have Justin's motorcycle. Thank you again for offering your assistance. We'd like you to contact that other Witch, as soon as possible."

"Of course. Angela will need to be the one to do it. Does she have your permission to use magic in here again? This is Communication magic, not Healing magic, like before, with Marmalade. She's already drawn the Contact ward, in anticipation of your request, but she hasn't charged it yet," Mifune explained.

"Yes, she can use her magic. In fact, Angela, I meant to tell you before that you're free to use your magic any time you have a need for it while you are here, as long as it's Protection or Healing or other helpful or benign spells and wards. I only ask that you refrain from using any sort of Combat magic, without my permission, though I know that's not one of your specialties," Death instructed the young Witch.

He was rewarded with a sunny smile, as Angela sat up in her bed, her cat in her lap. "I promise I won't use any Combat or other magic like that," she swore solemnly.

Mifune got out of his bed and walked over to hers and climbed onto it, crossing his legs and sitting beside her, as Angela laid her hand on the ward she'd drawn on the ornate hand mirror decorated in skulls.

Death recognized it as one from their home. Kid must have provided it to her.

The ward glowed orange. "Michiko, are you there? It's Mifune," the swordmaster said, in a regular speaking voice.

The surface of the mirror shimmered and waivered. "Mifune! Thank Hecate! Are you alright? I was casting a scry for someone else and saw you in a pitched battle with a powerful Witch, before the mirror shattered. I couldn't detect who it was, but I knew who it must be. I won't say her name and risk drawing her to you. I've been trying to locate you ever since, but wherever you are has been resisting my magic. Were you captured? I recognize this magic as Angela's, so you must be free now," a young woman's voice stated breathlessly.

"Breathe, Michiko. Angela and I are both fine. Well, injured, but recovering, and safe. We've found some very powerful allies who have been helping us. And you're right, that Witch you saw was Esmeralda, but we defeated her and she's dead now. And the DWMA is no longer after us. They realize we weren't the ones who killed those people.

"Lord Death has actually halted all hostilities against the rest of the Witches. The DWMA Meisters and Weapons will no longer be hunting any of you, unless you do something evil, like human sacrifices or other major crimes. Lord Death is going to send a peace envoy to the next Convocation, to begin the first steps of creating a treaty," Mifune explained, outlining what Death had discussed with him and Angela.

"Are you serious? A peace treaty? After all these centuries of persecution? Why would he suddenly stop hunting us?" Michiko asked incredulously.

Mifune looked a little sheepish, and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, Angela and I managed to rescue Lord Death's son, Death the Kid, who'd been captured by the Witch Esmeralda and the Autonomous Weapon Giriko. We were both instrumental in defeating Esmeralda. And, um, we're actually in Death City right now – that's where we're calling you from."

" _What?"_ the young Witch yelled. "Are you _insane_? What if Lord Death traces this back to me? Are you _trying_ to get me killed?"

"Michiko, you weren't listening. He's not about to hurt you. In fact, he needs your help, which is why we called you. Well, in addition to wanting to let you know we were alright, and to tell you about the peace delegation, so you could start relaying word to all the Covens about the pending treaty.

"The head of the European branch of the DWMA, the Autonomous Weapon Justin Law, has been abducted by the Autonomous Weapon Giriko. We haven't been able to find him and don't know what's happened to him so far, though we know Giriko was planning on torturing him, both physically and in other ways that I won't say in front of Angela. We were hoping you'd be willing to do a Divination to find him. It would go a long way in helping strengthen the bonds of goodwill between you Witches and the DWMA," Mifune urged.

"And I repeat, are you insane? You know what happens to Witches who aid the enemy! If they're lucky they only get ostracized from their Coven and have their grimoires taken. You know others have been killed for infractions way more minor than helping the Reaper who's spent the last eight hundred years persecuting us!" Michiko shrilled.

Death hadn't known that, though he also wasn't aware of any Witches helping the DWMA in the past. He walked to the head of the bed, into view. "Excuse me for interrupting your conversation Mifune, Witch Michiko, but it was never my intention to put you in danger from your own Covens, though I admit, in the past that thought wouldn't have bothered me at all. Still, I wasn't aware that your Covens had been taking steps like those against any of you who aided us. I wasn't aware of any Witches ever aiding us, in the past. But I owe the Witch Angela for the life of my son, and I owe the rest of you for the crimes I've committed against the entirety of your people.

"I never should have targeted you all for the actions of a single Witch, for the death of my father, but at the time I made the mandate against you, I was newly formed and made certain assumptions that I now see proved to be false. I cannot make amends for eight hundred years of war and all the resulting Witch deaths, but it is within my power to end that war, if you and your fellow Witches are willing. I'll have the rest of my life to do all I can in the form of reparations, but right now, the life of a young man hangs in the balance. He shouldn't be punished for my errors, though that is exactly what's happened to him. He's suffering right now, because of my many mistakes."

"Death. You're… Lord Death. Mifune, you…. you didn't tell me he was _standing right there! That he was listening!"_ Michiko shrieked.

"Michiko, you need to calm down. I told you, Death isn't a threat to you. You know my code of honor. You know I'd never betray you," Mifune assured her.

The look of panic fled her face, and she blushed, looking both flustered and sheepish. "You're right. I'm sorry. It's just, I was so worried about you, and that's _Lord Death_ and… What do you need me to do?"

"We'd like you to come here and perform a Divination. The DWMA has been unable to locate Justin using Soul Detect, because of Esmeralda's magic. She apparently charged some Soul Protection wards before she was killed, and until the power drains from them, we can't locate him directly. We're hoping a Divination can provide the clues we need, and also, that we'll be able to see his physical state, how badly injured he might be. He's only 17, Michiko. He's just a kid."

Michiko sighed. "Then I can't say no, can I? You'd never forgive yourself or me. Alright, I'll come. Just let me gather a few things I'll need, and contact me again using a full length mirror so I can step through on your end. You're sure I'll be allowed to leave again? That you're not trapping me there?"

"Michiko," Mifune chided.

"I know, I know. Fine. But you're going to owe me for this, big time. Give Angela a hug for me, and tell her I'll see her soon, OK?" Michiko said with a put upon sigh.

"Hi Michiko! I'm here too, I just didn't want to interrupt. Look! I have a familiar! His name's Marmalade, and he's orange, just like my magic!" Angela said eagerly, holding her cat up to the mirror.

"Oh Angela, he's so pretty! Just like you, cutie. You're alright? They're really treating you OK?" Michiko asked skeptically.

"Of course! Mifune told you they were, and he never lies about anything. And they're really nice, all my new friends: Death the Kid and Soul and Maka and Black*Star and Tsubaki and Patty and Liz, and Dr. Stein and Nygus, and Dr. Bryant and Spirit and Lord Death and everybody!" Angela claimed enthusiastically.

Michiko couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. "That's wonderful, sweetie. I guess I'm going to get a chance to see how nice they are in person, huh?" she said.

Lord Death could hear the challenge in her voice.

"You won't regret coming, Michiko. You have my word," Mifune promised.

"Then I guess I have to believe you. Alright. Give me twenty minutes to pack. I'll come as quickly as I can, but locating him may take a while, and I don't want to forget anything important that might delay finding him," she bargained.

"That's fine. Thanks, Michiko. That's another one I owe you," Mifune said.

"That's what best friends are for, silly," Michiko scolded. Then she broke the connection.

"She sounded pretty cool, after she got done screeching," Soul commented.

"She sounded really brave," Maka chimed in.

"How did you meet her?" Tsubaki asked.

Mifune looked sheepish again. "She was being chased by a Meister and Weapon. I helped her get away."

"Ah. Her reluctance to come here is certainly understandable, then. It appears I have a lot to make amends for," Death said, uncharacteristically solemn.

"I only hope we can find Justin quickly," Kid said, anxiously.

0 0 0

Spirit, Crona, Maka, Soul, Mifune, and Angela were in Spirit's office, ready to greet the Witch Michiko when she stepped through the mirror. They were using Spirit's office because it was far less intimidating in décor than much of the Academy, and it had a full length mirror, because Spirit was a man who was proud of his appearance and more than a little vain.

Spirit was there as Death's representative, because having Death himself there would likely have been too overwhelming for the rightfully hesitant and suspicious Witch. Mifune and Angela were there to reassure Michiko that she was safe, that this wasn't some sort of elaborate trap and to assist however they could with the scry. Crona was needed for the spell, to locate Justin. Maka was there to support Crona, because she was afraid what the scry would reveal. Soul was there to protect Maka, because there was no way he was letting a Witch anywhere near his Meister, without being there to protect her.

Soul immediately tensed as an image appeared in the mirror of a young Asian woman. Instead of traditional Witch's robes, she was wearing a blood red kimono, an intricate pattern of complex and now familiar looking circles woven into the fabric with what appeared to be thread made of actual spun silver. Soul's tension skyrocketed. "Wards. She's covered in wards," Soul warned the others suspiciously, as he stepped protectively in front of Maka, ready to defend her and kill the Witch.

"Well of course! You don't honestly expect her to enter Death City unprotected, do you?" Angela chided. "But she's not only wearing those clothes for protection. She's also wearing them to honor Lord Death. Those are her formal Witch's robes. That's what she wears to the Convocation," Angela explained.

"She wears a kimono covered in wards? Don't the other Witch's feel threatened by that?" Maka asked curiously.

"Of course not, silly! Their robes are all covered in wards too, though sometimes on the inside, where the others can't see. The Witches who hide their wards are usually the bad ones, the dangerous ones, though sometimes they're either the weak ones, or the careful ones. You don't want the other Witches to know that you only know a few Combat wards, or to know which Protection wards you have. Witches are very mistrusting, and our society is very complex," Angela explained.

Angela turned back to the mirror, where Michiko was patiently and silently waiting, assessing them as cautiously as they'd been viewing her. "Witch Michiko, please enter the DWMA as our honored guest. I, Witch Angela, swear upon my soul to Blessed Hecate, Mother of All Witches, that these Weapons and Meisters will do you no harm," Angela intoned, in what was apparently some sort of ritual greeting.

The tension didn't leave the Witch Michiko at Angela's words, but her face softened for a brief moment with a fond smile at the younger Witch. "Thank you. In turn, I, Witch Michiko swear upon my soul to Blessed Hecate, Mother of All Witches that I will do no harm to these Weapons and Meisters, unless I am attacked first and need to defend myself." She looked pointedly at Angela.

"Oh! You're right! I should have qualified my vow, that they would only harm you if you attacked first. Now, even if they protect themselves, if they harm you, I've forfeited my life," Angela said, more exasperation than dismay in her voice. "I'm lucky it's you. I'll have to be more careful next time."

"That's why formulaic vows are the safest, Angela. If you try to adapt them, or add extra words, you're more likely to misspeak, or omit something important. But still, for someone so young, that was very well spoken. You do Hecate great honor by your service to her. It is no wonder you are Of the Blessed," Michiko stated.

"Oh! That's right! I need to tell you it happened again, when we were battling the Witch Esmeralda!" Angela said excitedly.

Michiko's eyes widened. "The Sisterhood spoke through you again?" she asked, sounding stunned.

"Yes!" Angela said excitedly.

"Excuse me. I don't mean to be rude, and I hate interrupting, but could you please step through the mirror and do the scry to find Justin now? We know he's been captured and we're sure he's being tortured, so we don't have time for stories. We need to hurry," Crona spoke up, to Soul's surprise.

 _They must really care about Justin, to have been that bold to not only a stranger, but a Witch._

"Crona is right. You two can talk later, Angela. We need to find Justin," Mifune agreed.

"Of course! Forgive me," Angela apologized.

Michiko took a deep, bracing breath, and then stepped through the mirror, exhaling in the room they were in.

"Welcome to the DWMA," Spirit said formally.

Michiko eyed her surroundings warily, as if expected Lord Death to leap out at her.

 _Which he actually might do, if he were here,_ Soul conceded.

"Well then. Let's get started," Michiko stated bravely.

Soul watched as Michiko prepared the mirror she had stepped through for the scry, using runes, and what looked like herbs and dried animals. She worked with grim efficiency, as tension and hopes built in the room.

"The mirror is prepared. Now I need the abducted person's possession, you said it was this motorcycle, correct?" she asked, as if there might be another reason it was in the room with them.

"Yes, this is Justin's. And I'm his student… disciple… friend," Crona squeaked nervously. "You need my blood, right?" they asked, holding their right arm across their stomach, gripping their left forearm anxiously.

"Yes, but only a little. I just need to make a small prick in your finger with my Athame, my Witch's dagger, and allow three drops to touch the surface of the mirror, equidistant from one another. Three is a very powerful number in magic, and triangles are an important symbol," Michiko explained.

"Yes, I know. We already explained to Angela and showed her that my blood is different from normal blood, it's black blood, but she said it should actually work better than red blood, because it's already laced with magic from that, but also, I know because I'm a Witch's child," Crona said in a rush.

Michiko's eyes widened. "Your mother is a Witch? But they let you be here at the DWMA?" she asked in shock.

"Yes. They let me be here in spite of my Witch's blood, and my mother, and what she did, and what I did – all the bad things," Crona explained.

"None of that was your fault, Crona," Maka defended immediately.

"There's probably nothing to apologize for. The DWMA thinks all Witches are bad," Michiko replied.

"I know. At least, they used to. But my mother really _was_ bad. She was the most evil Witch ever," Crona claimed.

"I doubt that. Unless your mother was Esmeralda," Michiko scoffed.

"No. But she was just as bad. She killed lots of innocent people too. And made me kill them. My mother was Medusa," Crona whispered.

Michiko gasped and snatched her hand away from Crona's, the Athame suddenly held aggressively, up in the air, point down, like a weapon.

Soul immediately transformed as Maka leapt protectively in front of Crona before the dagger was finished raising.

Mifune leapt just as protectively in front of Michiko, his hand on the hilt of his sword, but he didn't draw his blade. "I can't let you harm Michiko, not just because she's my friend, and she didn't mean to look dangerous, but because Angela's soul would be in danger if you fight. Michiko, put the Athame away. There's no need to protect yourself from them. Crona isn't at all like their mother. They're a valued student. I've seen how protective everyone here is of them. They wouldn't be, if Crona was like Medusa, or Arachne, or Esmeralda. You're so eager for the DWMA not to wrongly judge you, because of your blood, your lineage, yet you're doing exactly the same thing to Crona," he scolded.

"Damn it! I hate when you do that, when you get all pedantic like that. I'm not a child, Mifune. I'm older than you are, by at least two centuries. I remember when samurai thrived, when they were still powerful, still valued, still respected, instead of ridiculed. I know I acted rashly. I realized it the second I moved, but it was too late. Or would have been. Thank you for protecting me. I apologize, Crona, for my reaction, for acting so precipitously. It's just… we were all terrified of Medusa. And we were so reliev… Forgive me again. You must still be in mourning," she apologized eyes downcast, looking distressed.

"It's alright. She was my mother, but she was evil. She needed to be stopped, and the only way to do that was to kill her. She needed to die, to protect everyone. Maka, please don't attack Michiko. She won't hurt me. Soul, please change back. I don't know how to deal with people when they want to fight, how to keep them from fighting, but I know I don't want anyone hurt," Crona urged.

"You deal with them just fine, Crona. That was the perfect thing to say," Maka told them.

Crona blushed happily, and Soul reluctantly shifted back to human form.

"It was. But I'm sorry. I can't do the scry," Michiko apologized.

"What in Death's name do you mean, you can't do the scry," Soul snapped. "What game are you playing?"

Michiko glared at him. "I'm not playing a game. I'm stating a fact. In order for the magic to work, I need to draw the blood with an Athame, or another magical blade. But Crona is a Witch's child. The only Athame that can draw their blood is their own, or their mother's. The magic won't work if it's mine. The two will cancel each other out, and the blood will be inert. Since Crona isn't a practicing Witch, I doubt they have an Athame, and Medusa's would have been destroyed when she died. Do you have an Athame we can use?" Michiko challenged.

"No. But I have Ragnarok, and he's a Demon Weapon. He's a magical blade. We could use him, couldn't we? I'm not drawing him to attack you, just to show you, alright?" Crona asked cautiously, their hand hovering over their shoulder.

"Alright. Show me," Michiko challenged bravely.

"Ragnarok, I need you to be short this time, like a dagger, OK?" Crona urged, as they reached for their shoulder.

Ragnarok popped up out of their shoulder. "I'm not stupid you know! I know what to do," he griped, as he formed into a blade identical in shape to the Athame.

"I know you're not. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to insult you," Crona apologized sheepishly.

Ragnarok pinched them. "How many times do I have to tell you to stop looking weak in front of the enemy?" he demanded, more exasperation than anger in his voice.

"I know, I won't, but Michiko's not an enemy. She here to help," Crona argued.

"That's what they all say, until they stab you in the back. You can't trust Witches, Crona. You of all people should know that," Ragnarok chastised.

Michiko looked insulted and imperious. "Not all Witches are like Medusa. Most aren't. But even if you can't trust my word, you can trust my vow. As a Demon Weapon, you must know what would happen to me if I were to break a vow to Blessed Hecate," Michiko chided.

"Yeah. Yeah I saw, more than once, when Medusa tricked other Witches into breaking their vows, when she was forming me. It wasn't pretty. You don't want to do that, break that kind of vow," Ragnarok agreed, with a shudder, looking more than cowed by the memory.

"OK, prick yourself. Let's get this over with," Ragnarok demanded, but not as aggressively as usual.

Crona pricked themself, and dripped the three drops as instructed, like wet tar on the mirror's frame.

"We're ready," Michiko stated.

"OK Angela, it's time for you to leave. You need to wait outside the room, alright? And no listening in at the door," Mifune instructed.

"Alright," Angela reluctantly agreed.

Soul was glad they were making her leave, but he didn't think that was enough. "Hey, Crona, why don't you go with her, and Maka, you should go with Crona to keep them company and protect Angela while Mifune's in here with the other Witch," Soul proposed. He didn't want Crona or Maka seeing what was happening to Justin, not after what that sick bastard Giriko had done to Kid, and the things he'd said about what else he would do to him.

"No way. I'm staying. But Crona, Soul's right that you should go," Maka urged.

"No. Justin is my friend. I need to be here. What kind of friend would I be if I ran and hid from this? How could I help him when we rescue him, if I can't even bear to see what's happened to him in a mirror?" Crona argued, with the fierce intensity Soul had only ever seen before when they were defending Maka.

"Damn it. Alright then. Maka, you should stay too. Because Crona might need you," Soul reluctantly said, knowing she'd insist on it anyway, but letting Maka know he wouldn't fight it anymore.

"It will be alright, Angela. Kid will wait with you," Mifune assured the little Witch.

"I know. And I'll do a good job of distracting him, so he doesn't realize what we're doing and try to come in and see," Angela agreed seriously, without her usual sunny innocence.

Mifune opened the door and walked her out, and in a few moments was back. "It's time," he said simply, and Michiko began incanting.


	18. Chapter 18 - Helpless Captive: What

**These characters are under copyright by** **Atsushi Ōkubo, Squar Enix, Yen Press, Shōnen,** **  
Akatsuki Yamatoya.** **Madman Entertainment, Manga Entertainment, Funimation,** **and/or others. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.**

 **A/N:  
CAUTION: Vulgar language below, as well as mention of sex, blood play, animal death, child abuse, and thoughts of suicide. Also, Christianity discussed and reflected in a way that might be upsetting or objectionable to some readers.**

Chapter 18 – Helpless Captive: What Horrors Does the Scry Reveal?

"Make a blade manifest in my finger?" Justin asked, breathless and thoroughly puzzled. He was feeling a little dizzy, actually, though he wasn't sure if that was from the earlier blood loss, the intense lovemaking, or the blood play that had been part of it, though none of the cuts had been deep, almost more like paper-cuts really, providing an intense bite of pain at just the right moment, which had felt as amazing as Giriko had promised it would. Just thinking about it had Justin hard again.

"What, seriously? Come on, Sinner, you're making me feel like an old man, here! You're a damned nymphomaniac," Giriko grumbled.

Justin immediately felt ashamed, and grabbed the blanket and covered his now rapidly wilting erection.

"Damn it!" Giriko snapped, yanking the blanket away. "I was joking, you idiot. You're a teenage walking wet dream and eight hundred is not old enough to not want some more of that action. But I've got something else I want to do first. I've given you about a zillion love bites, and maybe thirty strategic cuts, but other than those slices during our fight in the cathedral, nothing to claim you as mine so far that won't heal up and disappear in a day or two. Which is fine, I doubt you're ready for more than that yet. But I want something more lasting, something to show I'm yours, even if I can't show you're mine yet.

"So, my blades can manifest all over my body, right? And other Weapons can turn their whole bodies into a weapon, or manifest them anywhere too, right? I know I've only seen you manifest your blades on your arms and legs, but you should be able to manifest them anywhere," Giriko encouraged.

"Really? Are you sure?" Justin asked, intrigued, forgetting about covering himself, and sitting up in the bed.

"Fuck that's sexy. That wide-eyed innocent look right there. One minute your eyes are so knowing, like you've fucked the Pope on his own altar, and then you give me that look and… Oh, right. Sorry. No more Pope references. But at least I didn't screw up and call you the "P" word again. I like calling you Sinner better anyway. But yeah, I mean see, like this, the way I made those other cuts on you. I guess you were a little too distracted to notice, huh?" Giriko said with a smug smirk, as a miniature chainsaw whirred around his index finger.

Justin bit his lip, captivated. The tiny blade was so cute, he couldn't stand it. He took a deep breath and turned the music off, the way he had when they'd actually been making love, blushing furiously at the memory of how it had sounded.

He heard the diminutive whir of the saw blade and was completely entranced. He reached out to touch it and yelped, putting his bleeding fingertip into his mouth.

"You little idiot! Just because it's little doesn't mean it's not still sharp. You're lucky I yanked back. You could have lost your fingertip and I'm not willing to lose any of those," Giriko claimed possessively. "Now look but don't touch, alright?" he ordered, watching him warily.

"I'm not two," Justin grumbled.

Giriko raked his body with a lecherous gaze that almost had him reaching for the blanket again. "No, you're not."

"Um… you can make the blades manifest anywhere?" Justin asked, both appalled and intrigued by the thought.

"Why you little pervert," Giriko said with a grin, and Justin realized his eyes had betrayed his thoughts, and he yanked his gaze away.

"Anywhere with bones. And it might be called a boner, but… my hips sure, but not my cock or balls," Giriko said bluntly.

Hearing Giriko speak so crassly sent a shiver of desire through Justin. That was the first thing he'd found so mesmerizing about Giriko, how completely uninhibited Giriko was, in direct opposition to how restrained and controlled he was. Justin had always thought dropping his guard would mean letting the Madness in, letting it win, but he was surprised at how much quieter his father's voice had gotten, in so short a time.

Maybe he was just hiding, lulling him into a false sense of security, ready to pounce, like when he thought he'd hidden effectively from his father, by the riverbank, just before the bat had slammed into his back, bringing him to his knees, and his father's viselike hands had wrapped around his neck and pushed his head into the icy water and…

The knee pinning his wrist didn't drag him from the nightmare of the past, or the teeth biting into his shoulder, but the blaring music that suddenly thundered through his headphones had him snapping back to awareness, to a shower of sparks. He realized Giriko's blades were tearing against his own, that without them, Giriko would have lost at least an arm, if not his life.

Justin shrank away from Giriko, horrified, his blades sinking back into his body, as his heart sank into his stomach, as memory of the first time his blades had manifested grabbed him by the throat harder than his father's hands. He could still hear the horrible, shrieking, yapping keen of the bloodied puppy, see it stagger, a look of confusion and betrayal on its face. He'd run to his father, covered in blood, begging for him to help, telling him they'd been playing, wrestling and…

He thought his father would help the whimpering puppy, bring it to a doctor, but instead, he'd "put it out of its misery" with a single bat strike to the head, and then started to beat him within an inch of his life with the bloody bat, screaming about how he was the son of the devil, that his mother was a whore, until he stumbled away and hid, by the river, remembering hearing how walking through water masked your scent, not that they had a dog to track him anymore.

He still heard that horrible whining keen, or thought he did, until he realized it was him, that Giriko's voice was laid over it, alternately yelling and begging, loud enough that he could actually hear it over the booming music, but he wasn't touching him anymore. _Afraid, he's afraid of me, like Father was. I killed him, I killed my father. I'm a monster, an abomination, a demon child, the son of the Devil._

He'd thought his father was right, when he looked up from his bloody corpse into the skeletal face of the Grim Reaper. He'd fallen to his knees, crying and apologizing, not even trying to explain what he'd done. He'd expected hellfire and brimstone and damnation. He hadn't expected strong warm arms to hug him, hold him as he sobbed wildly, hands that firmly but gently kept him from killing himself with his own blades when he finally realized what he should do.

Lord Death had calmly made him tell him what had happened, and Justin had sobbed out everything, about hurting the puppy, his father attacking him, what he'd said, and then everything else, the beatings from as early as he could remember, being locked away in his room night after night without supper, the failed exorcisms, his every shameful secret. He waited for the Reaper's vengeance.

"You're not to blame for any of this, son. I don't sense any malice in your Soul, only terror and guilt and despair, and sadly, because your manifestation was so catastrophic, more than a hint of Madness. Killing yourself will only mean one more death. It won't restore balance. It happens this way, sometimes, a Weapon manifests suddenly, violently, usually at a moment of extreme terror or desperation, joy or even love: any strong emotion that resonates within your Soul Wavelength can make your Weapon appear. You need to come with me, son. I'm going to bring you to a place you'll be safe, a place where you can learn how to use your power to help people, to protect them, a school for special children like you."

In his time of greatest need, Death had appeared to him, not like one of the Angels of God his father had always ranted about, a harsh, vengeful soldier of God, ready to punish the wicked and reward the righteous, but instead a being full of compassion and kindness, all the humanity his own father had lacked.

The comforting memory, of order being brought from chaos, of kindness arising from the basest cruelty, rode on the crest of the thundering music roaring through his head. He focused on the present again, on Giriko, relieved to see he was alive and relatively intact, not missing any limbs at least, though he was bleeding from a number of new wounds, and was bent over, a short distance away, out of blade range, hands on his knees, panting.

"I'm sorry," Justin said insufficiently, not knowing what else to say, dismayed and horrified. He'd just lost his mind in front of Giriko, after making love with him. Giriko would never want to touch him again, or even look at him. He was a monster, an abom…

"Fuck, Sinner, are you OK now?" Giriko asked, the warmth and relief and concern in his voice, the use of his pet name, after what he'd just done, bringing tears to Justin's eyes and yanking him forcefully from the precipice of his self-loathing again.

Justin nodded, unable to speak around the lump in his throat, and then he started to cry, curling in on himself, relief flooding him anew, when instead of looking at him in disgust, Giriko wrapped his arms around him and held him.

He couldn't believe how gentle and compassionate Giriko was being. But then, Giriko knew what he had gone through. Giriko's father had tried to kill him, too. Of everyone he had ever met, Giriko was the only one who innately understood him.

He frowned in guilt. No not the only one. Crona had understood too, what it was like to have a parent despise, ridicule, threaten and attempt to kill you. Crona had barely survived their mother Medusa's machinations or her attacks.

Justin closed his eyes and forced himself to relax in Giriko's embrace, which was a lot easier than he had any right to expect.

0 0 0

"Are you done crying? Are you alright now, Sinner?" Giriko asked hopefully, when Justin finally seemed to calm.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm sorry for acting so improperly," Justin apologized. "Please tell me what you were trying to tell me before. Why did you want me to form a blade on my finger?"

"Stop apologizing to me, damn it. You didn't do anything wrong. As for the blade on your finger, I want you to manifest one because I want you to write something for me," Giriko said, as he nuzzled his neck, and licked along his collarbone.

"Write something?" Justin asked, puzzled. "What?"

"Your name. Right here," Giriko said, pressing his hand over his own heart.

Justin's breath caught. "You want me to carve my name into your chest?"

"Well, when you say it that way, it sounds kind of weird, instead of romantic. I want you to sign your name over my heart, so everyone can immediately see who it belongs to," Giriko explained, as he dusted Justin's collarbone with kisses.

Justin gasped and then dove onto him kissing Giriko passionately, making him laugh.

"Well, aren't you enthusiastic?"

Giriko was worried for a moment that he might have hurt the young Weapon Meister's feelings, from the sudden intense stare, until he spoke.

"I want you to sign your name on me, too, right here," Justin said, pressing his hand to his own heart.

"You… seriously? You'd let me?" Giriko asked, stunned. He hadn't expected that. He'd been half convinced Justin would refuse to sign his name on him, that he'd think he was a freak, in spite of the spectacular sex they'd shared.

"I'm not letting you. I'm asking you to. I want everyone to know I'm yours, too," Justin said fiercely.

Giriko felt a slow grin light his face, as he bent in for a kiss. "Well alright, then."

0 0 0

Soul saw a shower of sparks in the scrying mirror, and beneath it, a no-holds-barred fight, both of the men naked, the larger, older man pinning the young one to the bed, his knee pinning one wrist and his teeth clamped on his opposite shoulder, as the young Autonomous Weapon fought wildly, a look of pure terror in his eyes, blood splattering as Justin fought a losing battle.

"No!" a horrified voice yelled from behind them.

Startled, Michiko's concentration shattered, and the image vanished.

"Kid!" Mifune called, reaching out a hand, in a hopeless gesture of comfort.

Kid recoiled, wrapping his arms around his chest, shaking his head wildly in denial at what he'd just seen.

"Shit," Soul cursed, as he reached out and pulled Kid in for a hug, not caring he was struggling, fighting him.

Death appeared in the room, coming through the door, not the mirror, but just before Death's hand reached them, to pull Soul off his son, Kid stopped fighting him, and collapsed into the hug, sobbing. "Damn it! I wanted to be in time to save him, to keep him from… I'm going to kill him!" There was more fury than despair in his voice, and suddenly shadow flooded Spirit's office, erupting out of Kid like an explosion, tearing Soul's arms off him and slamming him against the wall.

Soul's breath fogged as his heart raced and he shivered uncontrollably, as the temperature in the room plummeted dramatically, and a layer of frost iced the mirror, obscuring the damning surface. He fought to move forward, but his arms and legs were like lead, it was as if he was chained to the wall, and he wasn't the only one. He saw Maka and Crona were pinned as well. Michiko and Mifune weren't: the two of them were surrounded in a silvery glow, at least one and possibly a number of the wards on her kimono activated by Kid's shadow, as she encompassed Mifune in a protective layer of magic as well as herself.

"Son, you have to calm down," Death urged, the only one among them who could still move freely, though he wasn't approaching his son, likely afraid of pushing Kid completely into the Madness that was seeking to overwhelm him.

Soul realized he couldn't reach Kid with his body, but he was confident that he could reach him with his soul. Soul closed his eyes and breathed deeply, forcing his body to relax, calming his racing heart with the force of his will, ignoring the bone-chilling cold, though he was sure his lips were turning blue and his hands felt strangely numb. He ignored his body, and concentrated inwards on the warm blue glow of his soul, and then he expanded it outwards, as if he were performing a resonance with Maka.

The edge of his soul touched the edge of Kid's, but there was nothing familiar about the feel of Kid's soul. The icy, jagged discordance where their souls touched sounded like his hands slamming down on the keyboard of the piano in his head, over and over, a horrible, jarring sound, but it gave him a desperate idea.

Mentally Soul sat down at his piano and began to play, the harmonious music from his keyboard fighting against the cacophony of Kid's chaotic soul, as Soul used his music to tame the howling rage whirling around Kid. Soul swore he actually saw the Kishin for a moment, the image of Kid's dead brother superimposed over Kid, before the music tore it apart as if it were tissue paper, the remnants swirling across the floor like dead leaves in a winter storm.

Gradually, as he played, Kid's soul started to stabilize, the jagged violence of it calming, their two distinct Wavelengths merging, blending, harmonizing with one another, as Soul fought to bring them into Resonance.

Fortunately Death stayed back, apparently realizing what Soul was attempting, and hopeful it might succeed.

It almost worked, Soul was so close he could taste it, but then another wave of fury surged, and Soul's vision started to spark as he was crushed against the wall, unable to move, to breathe.

"Forgive me," Death said, his voice laced with sadness, as his own shadow emerged and wrapped around both his son and himself, concealing them in a blanket of opaque blackness.

Suddenly, Soul could breathe again. He slid down the wall, his feet momentarily unable to bear his weight and crashed to his knees, but he braced himself on his hands, sucking in lungfuls of welcome air. He forced his head up, looking for Maka. "Maka! Are you OK?"

She nodded, apparently not able to speak quite yet, but needing to reassure him.

"Crona?" Maka asked anxiously a moment later.

The shadow around Kid and Death cleared and Death was cradling his son in his arms.

"Crap! Is Kid alright? I tried to resonate with him, but I failed," Soul admitted shamefully forcing himself to stand and heading on unsteady feet towards them, though his strength returned with each lungful of air.

"I know. Thank you for that, Soul. It almost worked, I could feel it, which is why I didn't act sooner. It would have been much better if Kid could have recovered on his own, but he was too enraged, and his soul still too unstable from his own ordeal. I should have done a better job keeping him from this room, but he managed to sneak away before I realized.

"I need to keep him unconscious for a while, until you rescue Justin, or recover his body. What's happening is too traumatic for my son to deal with right now. Once it's resolved, one way or another, Kid will be able to accept whatever has happened. At least, I hope he can." Lord Death turned to Michiko, who was still sheathed in a protective halo of silvery magic.

"Witch Michiko, please forgive my son for his attack. As you've seen, it wasn't directed against you, or even intentional. Thank you for not taking hostile action against him," Death said, dipping in a bow to her, even as he still held Kid. "I'll leave with him now. I know you are likely afraid of me, and that's entirely my own fault. But please, if you were able to locate Justin's position, if you could lead us to him, or tell us where to find him, I will be further in your debt."

To Soul's surprise, the silver sheathe of magic began to dissipate, the shimmer dispersing like glitter tossed into the wind, until only Michiko and Mifune remained.

"I was a fool. I didn't include Reapers in my vow when I entered, nor did I catch Angela's omission and demand her to include you and your son. If I'd died, it would have been because I deserved it, because of my own carelessness," Michiko admitted, looking upset with herself.

"But I have no interest in rekindling hostilities with you, Lord Death, when we stand on the verge of the first hope for peace in nearly a millennia. Please see to your son. I was able to note Justin Law's location before the scry was dispelled. Your rescue party can leave as soon as they are assembled and my spells are ready. If Angela aids me, I'll be able to transport them directly. We'll be able to send three people, if she helps."

"I could transport more of them," Death volunteered, but Michiko shook her head.

"Reaper magic and Witch magic are incompatible. I don't have a street name, I can't tell you where the building is, but I can send them there, using a Tracking and Transport spell combined. That's complex enough, I assure you," Michiko explained.

"Then Soul, Maka, and Crona, please rescue Justin. Every second counts," Death commanded.

"Of course. We'll bring him back, we swear," Maka assured him.

"You just take care of Kid. We'll handle the rest," Soul agreed, casting one last look at Kid. Then he turned towards the Witch Michiko and the mirror.

 _Finally. I'm finally going to get vengeance for you, Kid, to pay that bastard back for what he did to you. And then you'll be alright again. You have to be._


	19. Chapter 19 - Show No Mercy: The Death

**These characters are under copyright by** **Atsushi Ōkubo, Squar Enix, Yen Press, Shōnen,** **  
Akatsuki Yamatoya.** **Madman Entertainment, Manga Entertainment, Funimation,** **and/or others. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.**

Chapter 19 – Show No Mercy: The Death of Giriko?

Crona wished they could help Michiko with the Tracking and Transport spells, but the only thing they could do was explain to Maka why it was taking so long, so she could explain to Soul and keep him as calm as possible, because he was so anxious to save Justin for Kid he was terrifying. The plan was for Crona to bring a loaded syringe of anesthetic that Dr. Bryant had prepared for Justin. It was their job to grab Justin and drug him, because they were afraid Justin would try to kill himself as soon as he was free from Giriko, and his arms and legs were guillotines: it wasn't as if they could disarm him. Even if he wasn't suicidal, they'd been afraid Justin wouldn't allow anyone to touch him, that he'd be too traumatized, and they needed to be able to rescue him.

Maka and Soul were going to be the ones to attack Giriko. Crona was actually worried about how eager Maka was to fight Giriko, as if Soul's bloodlust was contagious. Crona suspected they were unconsciously resonating on the same Wavelength. They would have been more worried about that, but Maka had assured them that Soul had control of his inner Devil now.

By the time it was finally time to step through the mirror, Crona's nerves were a jangled mess. Ragnarok had to pinch them repeatedly just to get them moving.

They expected everything to go wrong, for Giriko to somehow sense them coming and ambush them, for Justin to already be dead, or in a position where he could easily be killed before they could get him away from Giriko, for any number of things to go wrong. But miraculously, the plan worked perfectly.

Crona had managed to surprise and distract Justin just long enough to inject him, even as the sounds of battle began echoing from the adjacent room. Justin demanded to know what was going on, but his speech was already slurring, and when he tried to head towards the sounds of battle, he stumbled and staggered and slumped to the floor.

Fortunately, Crona caught him, because the last thing poor Justin needed was another injury. He was covered in tiny cuts, and bandaged everywhere. The most troubling of the bandages was the one across his chest, over his heart, with fresh blood on it, not because there was a lot of blood, but because the blood that had soaked through almost looked like letters, and then Crona realized in horror that they _were_ letters, that they spelled out an all too familiar name: Giriko. The monster who had taken Justin captive and tortured and raped him had _carved his name into his chest!_

Even their mother wouldn't have done something that horrible. _How could he do that to Justin?_ Justin was patient and brave and strong, he cared about Crona, he understood them, more than anyone ever had: even Maka didn't understand them quite as well as Justin.

Crona felt fury, they wanted to run into the other room and chop Giriko to pieces, but Justin needed them. He wasn't acting suicidal or afraid. Instead, he was trying to drag himself to the room where the battle was raging, to the whirring fury of chainsaws and the clang of a scythe, the sound of fighting.

" _JUSTIN_!" The fierce roar carried through the wall, over the sounds of the battle, but there wasn't just fury in that cry, there was fear and anxiety.

Crona was baffled to see the fierce intensity in Justin's eyes wasn't terror or Madness, it was desperation and determination, the look in Marie's eyes when she was protecting Stein from Medusa, the look in Maka's eyes when she was protecting them, or Soul's eyes when he was protecting Maka, or Kid, or Black*Star, even as Justin stopped moving, his hand still reaching out desperately, like he was trying to grab something elusive. Then suddenly there were blades, like claws, protruding from Justin's fingertips, going for his wrist.

Justin had never before manifested blades from his fingers. At first, Crona thought they'd been a fool, that Justin really was trying to kill himself, but they didn't slash, they jabbed, poked Justin's forearm, then his bicep, and he suddenly appeared more alert, and they realized he was using the pain to try to overcome the sedative, even as he prodded himself a third and then fourth time.

"This doesn't make any sense, Ragnarok. How am I supposed to deal with this? Giriko tortured Kid and he hurt Justin even worse. Why is Justin trying to go back to someone who hurt him?" Crona questioned aloud.

Justin answered, wordlessly, by carving a heart into his forearm and pointing to his chest with the last of his fading strength, to that horribly, sick, possessive name carved into the skin over his heart, a silent plea in his eyes, and then there were tears wetting them, he was _crying_ , and suddenly Crona _knew_.

"Oh no. Maka! Maka, wait stop!" Crona cried, abandoning Justin on the floor and running for the fading sounds of battle, praying they weren't too late.

Crona saw Soul slicing down, Giriko spinning around to block, staggering and then stumbling, sliding in a puddle of his own blood, and then Ragnarok was in their hand and they deflected the killing blow, just in the nick of time, although Crona almost hadn't made the block, because the look on Maka's face was terrifying, vicious and cruel, almost gleeful, like she was reveling in killing Giriko, not at all the way Maka should look when fighting someone.

"Crona?" Maka yelled, shocked.

"What the hell?" Soul demanded, still in his Weapon form.

"Wait! Stop! Don't kill him!" Crona begged, even as they interposed themselves protectively in front of Giriko, bravely turning their back to him, shoulder blades tensing and coming together, more than half expecting to feel a chainsaw ripping down their back, ready to armor themselves with Black Blood. But the attack never came, just the sound of pained panting.

"Justin?" Giriko rasped, not a demand, but a question, the fact that it was a single, weak word making Crona's heart race. There was blood everywhere, not just the puddle Giriko had slipped in, and Maka didn't look hurt, which meant all the blood was Giriko's, which meant he might die, soon.

"He's alright, he's safe, he just can't move, because I drugged him, to protect him, but he sent me to save you," Crona reassured him, realizing how insane that must sound, from the look of horror and then fury on Maka's face.

"What have you done to Crona! How are you controlling them!" Maka demanded, even as she tried to dive around them and attack Giriko again and Crona blocked with Ragnarok.

"Ow! Hey, watch it! None of this was my idea! The little idiot decided to join forces with the bad guy all on their own!" Ragnarok complained.

Crona was only glad it was Maka, and not Soul yelling at them, because Maka might at least listen to them, and they definitely weren't stronger than Maka and Soul together, so they needed at least one of them on their side.

And then there was coughing from behind them, and something hot and wet splashed the back of their neck even, followed by an ominous thud. Crona's hand instinctively went to their neck and drew back red, as they spun. Giriko was on his knees, gasping, blood frothing from his lips, which were turning blue, and his hands were clawing at his chest and neck, scratching bloody furrows with nails, not chainsaws, tearing away his shirt, and then ripping away the bright flash of white bandages over his chest as he fought to breathe, and Crona's eyes widened in shock: because there was Justin's name, not just his name, but his signature, the way he signed every document, the beautiful, looping, precise curves of it.

And then Giriko was on his back, gasping and convulsing, and Crona panicked, they fell to their knees at his side, and pressed their hands against his chest. "Don't die! Don't die, don't die, don't die!" Crona commanded frantically.

"Crona, stop! Why are you helping this vicious frea… What? I don't understand. Why is…?" Maka was staring at the name, Justin's name, only Maka wouldn't know it was his signature, she could guess, maybe, but that didn't matter, what mattered was Giriko was dying and he couldn't because then Justin would be alone again, like before, quietly sad and afraid, or worse, completely mad, and Justin was their friend, and they didn't want him to lose someone he loved, even if they didn't understand why, or how anyone could love someone so mean and evil and…

But they could feel Giriko's soul, and it wasn't evil, it didn't feel evil, it felt warm, but flickering and dissolving, sputtering, disintegrating, and suddenly there were thirty little lights instead of one big one, the blue darkening and fading in one of them until it was almost black.

"Jason!" Giriko cried in panic, and suddenly the dying light was brighter again, but the twenty-nine others had darkened perceptibly.

"Souls. Those are all separate souls. I don't understand! I don't know how to deal with this. How can one body have thirty separate souls?" Crona squeaked.

"Thirty sep… That's impossible," Maka said, but Crona could tell she was reaching out with her Soul Detect, feeling them, seeing them too, even as another of the lights nearly went out.

"Ruben!" Giriko whispered, barely audible through a bubble of blood, and the soul sputtered back to life, flickering, even as the other twenty-nine nearly extinguished.

"But this doesn't make sense. Giriko killed thirty men, he killed them and took their bodies, only he didn't, they're not dead, except one of them is missing, why is it missing? I HATE not understanding and I HATE seeing people die. I HATE being Medusa's child, I HATE my mother, I HATE that she was evil, and I HATE that she was a Witch, that I was born a Witch, that I can't change that, ever, that I have a Witch's soul. I never wanted to be able to do magic, but all magic isn't evil, all Witch's aren't evil. Little Angela isn't evil and Michiko isn't evil and Kim's not evil and I'm not evil either, and Angela knows healing magic and Michiko might too and we know Kim does, even though she has to hide it, and Medusa preferred hurting to healing but she could heal when she wanted to, when it served her purpose, and it serves my purpose to know WHAT IS GOING ON, so I'm going to heal you!" Crona yelled.

They pinned Giriko's weakly convulsing, shuddering, gasping body to the ground and forced their Soul Wavelength out through their hands, hoping they were doing something right, that the outflow of raw magic was working, that it was healing him, because they were already starting to feel really weak and dizzy, which must mean it must be working, right?

Only they weren't sure, because the room was spinning and they were going to throw up, and maybe they'd used too much Soul Wavelength, which would really suck, because that would mean they were dying, and they didn't know how to deal with dying.

Maka would be sad if they died, and she'd cry, and they never knew how to deal with her crying, only they wouldn't have to, because they'd be dead and wouldn't be able to help and….

" _CRONA!"_

The hands on their shoulders felt like vises, which was good, because a moment ago they couldn't feel anything, and they'd been afraid they'd already died.

And then Ragnarok was pinching them which really hurt, and they gasped, getting ready to yell at Ragnarok for hurting them, until Maka yelled again.

"Soul! Oh my God, Crona's breathing again, they're not dead, they're not!" and there were warm tears splashing on their face, and Maka's lap was somehow under their head.

"Good, because I don't kill kids, that would give me nightmares," Giriko muttered sarcastically from somewhere nearby, and he was talking, which meant it must have worked, he wasn't dead, even if they almost were, so they hadn't screwed up too badly, only Maka was shaking them.

"You idiot! What were you thinking?" Maka demanded.

"I'm sorry, but I had to save him for Justin, who better be able to explain to me why, because I don't understand why Giriko is thirty people and why Justin loves him and you have to help me keep Lord Death from killing him, Giriko not Justin, though I don't think Lord Death is going to be too happy with Justin, either, after what happened to Kid, that Justin didn't kill Giriko himself, if he wasn't really captured, if he just ran off with him or something.

"But I'm really glad none of us is dead, all thirty of him, and one of me, plus Ragnarok, of course, though he's probably going to pinch me a lot for this, or maybe punch me, because I probably really scared him, and where is he, anyway, why is he so quiet? He's OK isn't he?

"Ragnarok, you didn't do something stupid and die instead of me, did you? Because you're annoying and a bully, but you're my Weapon and my best friend and I wouldn't know how to deal with it if you weren't around to torture me anymore," Crona stated, their voice becoming more and more shrill and panicked as Ragnarok stayed quiet, because what if they had accidentally killed him? Then they wouldn't have a Weapon, and it would be their fault he was dead, and…

The sock to their jaw made them laugh, not because it was so weak that it didn't hurt, but because it wasn't, it hurt a lot, which meant Ragnarok was OK, that they hadn't killed them by accident.

"Oh terrific. They're not dead, but now they've totally cracked. Call the loony bin and tell Dr. Stein to move over, he's getting a roommate," Ragnarok snarked.

"Ragnarok, that's a terrible thing to say! And I wouldn't want to room with Dr. Stein. He's got those stitches on his face and that big screw and those glasses so you can't see his eyes, which are kind of creepy anyway, so maybe that's not a bad thing, and I know he's a good person, or he wouldn't be at the DWMA, but I don't know how to deal with him."

"I didn't know you knew healing magic," Maka said, sounding shocked and dazed.

Soul had been standing over Giriko, shaking, fury in his face, but then he rounded on them, and he looked terrifying, with his red eyes and razor sharp teeth, and who had teeth like that, like a shark? Why wasn't Kid scared of kissing that mouth? Except he usually looked sleepy, not angry like this, like he wanted to bite them, like a mad dog or a wolf or a shark.

"Why the hell didn't you use that on Kid? Or Maka before? This whole time you could have healed both of them, and you waste it on this piece of trash? After what he did to Kid? You should have let me kill him!" Soul yelled, towering over them, and Crona felt their fingers digging into Maka's wrists but didn't realize how hard they were holding her until Maka winced, and they'd _hurt_ her, and they didn't know how to deal with Soul being this angry and hurting Maka!

Maka bolted to her feet, dumping them on the floor but standing protectively in front of them. "Don't you dare terrorize Crona!" she demanded protectively, making a warm feeling blossom in their chest, even though Soul was scaring them. "They wouldn't have done what they did if there wasn't a good reason, something to do with Justin."

Crona nodded. "Justin begged me to help Giriko, even though he couldn't speak and could barely move, but he drew something, so I know I was right and…"

"What the hell do you mean, he can't speak or move? What the hell did you do to him?" Giriko demanded furiously, and suddenly there was the familiar sound of chainsaws roaring, and it was a good thing their Black Blood could make them hard like this, because they'd never seen Giriko with all his chains going at once like that, it was really pretty terrifying, and there was no way to hold him without getting hurt otherwise, and then there was a flash of pink light, and Maka was holding Soul, and it was going to start all over again, and they didn't know how to stop it or deal with it.

"Giriko… stop," a voice commanded weakly from across the room, the doorway, the floor, and suddenly Giriko was gone, he was on the floor next to Justin, who'd somehow managed to drag himself that far, and all the chainsaws were gone, as Giriko reached for him, he grabbed him and held him protectively, possessively, glaring at all of them.

"He's alright. We drugged him, because we thought he might kill himself before we could help him, while Soul and Maka were fighting you, because we didn't know, the divination didn't show it like this, and I don't understand, but I can try to use my magic again, on him this time, to take the drug away, so you can see he's OK," Crona offered.

"If you touch him I'll kill you," Giriko snarled.

"Crona's… my friend. Let… them help," Justin forced out.

And the feral look just melted away, it was like watching Soul stopping Kid from freaking out, better than even Liz and Patty together ever could. "Alright, Sinner," Giriko said, caressing Justin's face, and there was tenderness there, like Giriko actually really was human, and not a Demon Weapon Meister more Demon than Weapon or Meister, even as Soul growled and Maka had to physically restrain him from attacking them.

Crona approached cautiously, in case Giriko changed his mind, but he let him kneel down and put their hands on Justin's chest, though Giriko growled and snarled, "He's mine!"

"I can see that," Crona squeaked, staring at the bloody letters of Giriko's name.

"It's already… a scar," Justin whispered in wonder, as he traced under his name on Giriko's chest, barely able to move his arm but still fighting against the drug.

"Yeah. I was afraid Witch Boy here would have erased it, but he just healed everything into scars. Don't make my name disappear off Justin, alright? But if you could heal up that cut I did accidentally to his chest, and those other two, to his side and leg, I'd appreciate it, because it hurts him when we fuck, and I haven't been able to be as rough as he wants me to be, because that's not the right kind of pain, it distracts him," Giriko claimed.

"I'll do what I can, but I'm not a boy," Crona said, their face flushing hotly at what Giriko had said, but resolutely placing one hand on Justin's chest and the other on his side, on the bandages marking the injuries. His skin around the bandages was just as soft and smooth as Maka's, which made them blush even more furiously.

"Seriously? You're a girl? You're more flat-chested than that bitch with the psychoblade over there," Giriko claimed.

Crona yanked their hands away and glared at Giriko. "Apologize! Right now! Don't you dare call Maka that bad word!" Crona demanded, shaking.

Giriko held up his hands. "Jeez, girlie, don't get your panties in a twist. You're still going to help Justin, right? Just because I'm an ass doesn't mean he should suffer."

"Giriko, shut up. You're… making it worse. Crona isn't … a boy or girl. They're non-binary…. And Maka is… very special to them…. She's their best friend," Justin claimed.

"No. You're my best friend. Maka is my girlfriend," Crona corrected, blushing fiercely with pride, and putting her hands determinedly back on Justin's chest and side, fortunately the bandages over his wounds making it feel less weirdly intimate than it could have.

"And of course I wouldn't punish you for Giriko being mean. Just because I'm a Witch's child doesn't mean I'm a bad person. And I'm lucky there's Angela and Michiko, because now that I've used magic, I'm a Witch too, I guess, and I'd have to leave Death City, but Lord Death has allowed them to be there, so I guess I'll be able to stay as well," Crona claimed, as they tried to focus their Soul Wavelength again.

Last time it was like opening a faucet all the way, the magic had just poured out of them. This time they only turned the handle a little bit, and the magic trickled out, but they could feel it filling Justin just the same. They could feel the drug, like a thousand tiny chains restraining him, and they dissolved them away, and they felt the jagged edges of the cuts on his chest and side, and started to heal them, but stopped before they were done. "I want to take the scars away too, not on his name, but on your chest and side and leg, but only if it's OK."

"You can do that?" Giriko asked eagerly. "Take them away. I only want to mark him a little bit at a time, he's so perfect, a tabula rasa, a blank canvas just begging for me to paint him, one I've already signed my name too," Giriko urged.

"I wasn't asking you. Justin, do you want me to take the scars away, too?" they asked him.

"Yes, but leave his name. I want him to be able to paint me, and he deserves a clean canvas, not a damaged one," Justin said, and Crona frowned, because that had sounded bad, like the way they sounded that made Justin look so sad, when they talked about their mother and how they used to feel.

Giriko grabbed Justin by the hair, forcing him to face him. "Don't you _dare_ say it like that! Especially not when I was the one who hurt you. It was my fault for not drawing back fast enough when I saw you were distracted like that. I kept from slicing through your rib cage both times, or doing too much damage to your leg, at least I didn't kill you, but I still cut way too deep. But even if you were scarred, you'd still be perfect. I mean look at you, for Christ's sake! You're a fucking angel. Don't make me put that damned music back on."

Crona gasped and froze. They hadn't even realized, they should have, but they didn't, they were so used to Justin reading their lips, but Giriko was right, there wasn't any music at all leaking from Justin's headphones and… and those weren't Justin's earbuds. His had little skulls on them, Lord Death's mask, and these were just blue, like Justin's eyes.

A smile broke the perfect solemnity of Justin's face, and his eyes sparkled with that devilish light that made Crona's breath catch, the way it had the only two other times they'd ever seen it. "What, you don't want to hear some of my 'Choir Boy crap'?" Justin asked innocently.

"Damn it, gir… Crona, finish fixing him up so I can kiss that smug smirk off Sinner's face."

That was new, too. Giriko always used to call Justin 'Priest' in the past.

They finished healing the chest wound but didn't alter the scar of Giriko's signature, not even smoothing out any of the jagged edges of it. It was still clear it had been made by a rough weapon, though a tiny one, for the letters to be as neat as they were, for it to be legible.

And then Justin was sitting up, and Giriko was kissing him, right in front of them, they just fastened onto each other and began making out.

"If you won't let me kill him, we're going to at least arrest him. Lord Death can be the one who kills him, or Kid. I say we chain him down and let Kid at him. See how he likes being made helpless like that," Soul snarled, Maka still physically restraining him from lunging at Giriko.

"That wasn't his fault. That was Jared. He was a Kishin Egg. He's been driving the rest of them insane, literally, ever since they possessed him. But I exorcised his soul and destroyed it. He's not part of them anymore," Justin claimed, his arms wrapped protectively around Giriko.

"Wait. What do you mean exorcised his soul? What are you talking about? You mean the soul that belongs in that body? You could do that? But instead of exorcising Giriko and freeing that poor man, you killed him?" Maka asked, appalled.

"I told you, he was a Kishin Egg. He was evil incarnate, Maka. He was a pedophile. I saw the memories of some of the things he did, that made what he did to Kid… no, that was still awful, but still, what he did to those children was far worse, in every way. He hurt them and debased them and killed them, as slowly and painfully as he could. Giriko's not the villain you think he is. You have Soul Detect. This place isn't warded like the cathedral was. Use your power. Look at his soul. You'll see," Justin claimed confidently.

Frowning, Maka did. The frown deepened. "He's right. His soul is different, from the last time I viewed it. He was becoming a Kishin Egg. But now it's just… blue."

"That's not possible," Soul argued angrily.

"I know what I see, what I feel, Soul. He's not evil. Crona, if it wasn't for you, we would have killed a sound soul," Maka said, her voice thick with horror and relief.

"Hey, it's not like even I could blame you for that one, not after what I did. Besides, I might not be evil, but that doesn't mean I'm not still a dick. So feel free to attack me, any time, any place, just not when Justin's around to get caught in the crossfire, OK? I don't want you hurting him by mistake," Giriko claimed.

"How are we going to explain this to Lord Death?" Maka asked.

"I think you and Giriko should hide for now, Justin. Either in that cathedral or Esmeralda's base, or somewhere else her Soul Protect ward is still working," Crona suggested.

"Are you nuts? We can't risk running into her. I'm strong, but not strong enough to take out a Witch, especially not that one," Giriko argued.

"Esmeralda is dead. But apparently her wards are still working," Maka explained.

"So you can hide from Lord Death, until we explain to him," Crona recommended.

"She's dead? That's a relief. Although I wish I'd known that earlier. Hey, Sinner, want to go fuck some shit up with me? And you know, just fuck. Because I'm in the mood to celebrate," Giriko crowed.

Soul roared and lunged, ripping free of Maka's arms. She tackled him centimeters away from Giriko's neck.

"Go! Take him and get out of here! And teach him not to be such a jerk, or next time, I'll let Soul rip his throat out!" Maka ordered.

Justin grabbed Giriko's arm and yanked him towards the door, able to move freely again, now that Crona had deactivated the drug in his bloodstream.

"Damn it, Maka! Kid was crying! Kid! He was completely falling apart! Do you have any idea how long I had to hold him until he could finally stop shaking? And then he completely lost it, during the scry, when he saw the two of them, and we're just letting that bastard walk away? If it was Crona he'd attacked, you'd have torn him to pieces! You'd never have let him leave!" Soul yelled.

"You're right. I would have wanted to. And I hope you would have done what I'm doing now, you'd have stopped me, because it isn't right, what happened to Kid, but killing Giriko now for it wouldn't be right either. He's a sound soul. We can't kill him. But also, we were doing this not just to avenge Kid, but to rescue Justin, remember? You've seen how protective they are of one another. Soul, they wrote their names on each other. How blatant do they have to be?

"If you had killed Giriko, it would have destroyed Justin, or worse, he'd have tried to stop you, and you know how unstable Autonomous Weapons are, and how powerful. Can you imagine how horrible an enemy someone like Justin could be, if we pushed him that far? If someone like him became a Kishin Egg, it would be a nightmare. We need to report back to Lord Death, what we found, what we know."

"Yeah, well don't expect to see either of them again," Soul grumbled.

"No. Justin's not like that. He might love Giriko now, although I still don't understand why, but he's fiercely loyal to Lord Death: he'd die for him. He'd never betray him. He'll come back, to explain, I know he will," Crona claimed.

"We'd better get back to the DWMA. This isn't something I want to try to do over a mirror," Soul said bitterly.


	20. Chapter 20 - Panic Attack: How Can Kid?

**These characters are under copyright by** **Atsushi Ōkubo, Squar Enix, Yen Press, Shōnen,** **  
Akatsuki Yamatoya.** **Madman Entertainment, Manga Entertainment, Funimation,** **and/or others. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.**

Chapter 20 – Panic Attack: How Can Kid Not Want to be Symmetrical?

Kid awoke abruptly and sat up scowling, immediately realizing he was back in a bed in the Auxiliary Infirmary, memory of overwhelming helplessness and mindless fury making his heart rate spike and his breathing ragged. He instinctively focused on the ward on his cast, the soothing, symmetrical lines of it to calm himself. He didn't know what he'd do once it was gone.

Maybe he could get a tattoo? So that he could always have that same warm feeling when he looked at his left arm. He imagined it clearly, outlined in black, intricate and perfect in his mind's eye and then he froze. Because he hadn't been imagining one on each arm, he'd been imagining one, on his left arm, just like now.

He felt a swell of panic so deep he couldn't breathe. He wasn't symmetrical. For a moment, he hadn't even wanted to _be_ symmetrical!

He began clawing at the cast with his right hand.

"Hey, Kid! Liz wanted me to make sure… what's wrong?" Patty asked in alarm, as she ran up to him.

"I'm hideous! I'm an abomination! Get it off! I can't bear to look at it anymore!" Kid demanded, slamming his arm into the wall, trying to crack the plaster, gasping in pain.

"Kid, stop! Why are you hurting yourself? Come with me! You need to talk to Liz! She'll understand. She's not supposed to get out of bed, but she always knows what to say!" Patty urged.

"No, I need to get it off now! And… you're not symmetrical either! You're supposed to be with Liz!" But Liz was hurt, because he was so incompetent he couldn't even protect his Weapons, she'd almost died, she was hurt so badly, and even though she was still alive, she was going to be scarred, the perfection of her body had been ruined because of him, because he was such a hopeless, worthless, useless piece of asymmetrical garbage!

0 0 0

Death regretted having left Kid's side, to see Stein in his office before he fled for his laboratory, after making his rounds of the now nearly empty Infirmary. Spirit had had the same idea, and Death had mistakenly thought his son would still be unconscious, but Kid had fought his way back to wakefulness while he was gone.

He hadn't seen Kid this bad in years, not since he'd first realized how wrong his world was, and tried to fix it, when he'd had to remake Death Mansion the way his son needed it to be. Kid hadn't calmed down enough to eat or sleep until the first room at least, his bedroom, was perfect, though it had taken nearly a week to get it that way. Kid had passed out from exhaustion and finally slept the moment he was satisfied.

Now Patty had burst into Stein's office yelling for help, and by the time they'd reached Kid, he'd torn out half the nails on his right hand trying to claw off the cast and caved three holes in the wall from slamming his arm into it. For a moment Death actually suspected the little Witch girl Angela of treachery, of some kind of delayed spell, until he realized it had finally sunk into his son's unique brain that he only had the single ward, the single cast, and Kid just couldn't stand it a moment longer.

Kid's mental state was far too fragile for a crisis like this. Death didn't even hesitate, he just wrapped his son in shadow, knocking him unconscious again instantly.

"Why isn't he moving!" Patty shrilled, and Death realized how ominous that must look to the poor girl.

"It's alright, Patty. Kid's going to be fine. I just put him to sleep," Death explained.

He was shocked by the look of wide-eyed terror on her face.

"Get away from him! How could you do that! He's your son! Why would you kill him?" she screamed, turning into her Weapon form and shooting her Soul Wavelength bullets at him.

Stein grabbed her from behind, wrestling with the unfamiliar Weapon, the look on his face as flummoxed as he felt. "I don't understand. She's always been stable. Even without a Meister, she's had her sister, she's part of a pair of Weapons. Part of the blessing of her lower level of intellect has always been that stability."

"Patty, it's alright. Kid's not dead," Spirit reassured her calmly. "Lord Death didn't mean it like that, not like with a dog or a cat. He really just meant he made him go to sleep. Stop shooting. You might hit Kid by mistake."

Patty immediately transformed back. "I'd never hurt Kid," she claimed angrily, and then her eyes flicked uncertainly from Kid to him and then Death and Kid again. "He'd not dead?"

"Of course not. Forgive me, I didn't mean to make it sound like that," Death explained, still not quite sure why she thought he might ever kill his own son. Although she'd seen him attack Asura with that intent, so… The thought of ever having to subdue Kid like that, skin him alive and imprison him, only to eventually have to allow others to kill him anyway, made him feel his full hundreds of years of life for the second time, the first since the battle with Asura.

"Death, he'll be fine. Now tell us what happened here," Stein said calmly, with that clinical detachment he used to mask the strongest of his feelings.

Patty confirmed Death's conjecture about the cast, explaining that Kid was acting strangely when he woke up, that first he looked afraid, but then he started to calm down when he looked at the cast, and then he'd completely freaked out. He started screaming about how worthless he was, and tried to rip the cast off and then started smashing it against the wall.

Death wished Mifune had been there – the samurai was remarkably adept at soothing his son – but he was with Angela on a mini-tour of the DWMA, escorted by Black-Star and Tsubaki. It had been Stein's idea, to take their minds off the rescue mission of Justin that they couldn't participate in.

"We need to get that cast off of him. He honestly likely doesn't need it anymore anyway," Stein said clinically. "I've already taken his bandages off, but bones are harder to heal, even for Reapers – they take longer. His ribs and leg and arm should be completely healed within the next few days, especially with the enhanced healing the ward has been providing all this time, although he might have aggravated the fracture by slamming his arm into the wall that way," Stein said clinically.

"If I'd known you'd be back to your usual self and at work this quickly, I would have gone after Giriko myself," Death accused, regretting it in the next instant, when he saw the pain in Stein's eyes.

"Then you wouldn't have been here when Stein and your son need you most," Spirit reminded Death pointedly, hugging Stein, who thankfully leaned into the hug Spirit offered, after initially shying away from the embrace, the skittishness and hesitation showing that in spite of the typical air of unconcern he'd displayed, Stein was far from normal.

"Forgive me. I didn't mean to say that. I just… I can't stand seeing him like this. He's been getting so strong, he's done so well. To see him backslide this far…" Death shrugged helplessly. And then, thankfully, Stein reached out and pulled him into their embrace.

"It's alright. You don't have to deal with it all on your own. We're here to help you, and Kid. And he's not like he was years ago. He's stronger now. He has friends now, a whole support system he can rely on, when he remembers to use them. You know how unusual it is for him to be alone now, and he used to be nothing but alone, when you weren't with him. Even now, he was with Liz and Patty. They saw something was wrong, so Patty was able to get help before he could do too much damage to himself. He'll recover from this."

Death nodded, needing to believe it. He just wanted this to be over. He wanted the monster who had hurt his son dead, and he wanted Kid to be whole again.

The last thing any of them expected was to hear angry yelling from the hallway leading to Stein's office.

"Calm down Soul! Nygus is going to keep you out of the Infirmary if you keep yelling like that, or worse, Lord Death is going to find out we're back, before we figure out how to tell him why we let Giriko escape with Justin," Maka scolded, as she and Soul and Crona appeared in the doorway. They stopped, cold, as they realized they were being stared at, and who was there, Maka and Crona looking guilty, and Soul looking furious.

"What do you mean you allowed Giriko to escape with Justin? Why isn't Giriko dead and Justin with you?" Death didn't even realize he was yelling, that his shadow had filled the room, how threatening he looked, until Soul transformed and leapt into Maka's hands, Patty transformed and flew into her sister's hand, and both Stein and Spirit stepped protectively in front of the five children.

"Kids, no! Transform back, now! Don't do anything to antagonize him, get out of here with your Weapons while Spirit and I distract him!" Stein ordered, strong and sure, as if he'd never doubted himself for a moment, even as Spirit kowtowed in front of him, completely submissive and vulnerable. The sight and sound of the two men was enough to bring Death back to himself, and the shadows that had blanketed the room receded back into his body.

"It's alright. I'm not going to harm anyone. I'll be in the Mansion. The one room I wouldn't let Kid change," Death proclaimed, and then he darted for Stein's office, to the mirror. He couldn't go directly to the room, because he had smashed the single mirror that had been in that room, though he'd left everything else intact.

Death emerged in the hallway outside the door of the place he always went when the Madness howled the loudest and threatened to overtake him. He formed lungs to take a deep breath, carefully constructing a fully human body, needing it to feel the full measure of pain that would be necessary for this. And then he stepped into a room frozen in time, a silent memorial to the son he had lost, long before he was actually killed. He stepped into Asura's bedroom.

0 0 0

"Damn it, Death, don't!" Spirit yelled ineffectually, as Death disappeared down the hallway, his eyes frantically going to Stein's.

"Go! You know where he's gone, and he shouldn't be there alone, not this time, when he's like this, not now, when Asura's dead," Stein said. "I'll take care of Kid. You take care of Death."

Spirit gave him a look of gratitude and then he ran.

"Everyone's gone completely nuts, and it's all that bastard's fault," Soul claimed angrily, as he changed back from his Weapon form to his human form, but then he spotted Kid, on the ground, where Death's shadow had deposited him. "Kid! What's wrong with him? What happened to his hand?" he demanded, gently putting his hand under the torn and bloody nailbeds of Kid's right hand.

"He'll be fine. I just need to cut his cast off, before he wakes up again. His arm should be mostly healed by now," Stein claimed in that dispassionate voice that was somehow better than anyone else's bedside manner, because you just knew that Dr. Stein would help them.

"While I'm doing that, I want you to explain exactly what you were trying to find a way to tell Lord Death," Stein ordered, reminding Soul there was a reason he was the most powerful Meister in the Academy's history, that he was worthy of wielding Spirit, even though Spirit was officially Lord Death's Scythe now.

0 0 0

Soul explained the insane situation as best as he could, with Maka and Crona constantly cutting him off, especially Crona, which he wouldn't have suspected. He was confused as hell by what Crona told them all, about the separate souls they'd felt, and how Giriko had kept two of them from dying by weakening the others, including his own. Or they all had. He still didn't know what any of that meant.

"You used your Witch powers to heal Giriko?" Stein asked Crona levelly, his voice neither accusing nor surprised nor incredulous, just fact finding.

"Yes sir. I had to. I couldn't let him die. I couldn't hurt Justin like that, not when he'd begged me to save him. The rest of you don't know Justin as well as I do. He's never cared about anyone like that, enough to want to save them. I mean, he's saved people before, lots of times, for Lord Death, but only because it was for Lord Death. I don't think he ever really cared if any of those people lived or died. But he didn't want Giriko to die."

"You know about Stockholm syndrome, Crona, we talked about how that was part of how Medusa controlled you, all those years, because you were reliant on her for your survival, that when you said you loved her because she was your mother, you really meant because she was your captor but had allowed you to live, that she never had maternal feelings for you, and you never had filial feelings for her?" Stein said patiently.

"Yes, I know, and I agree, but that was me. This didn't look like that, it was deeper than that, it was like seeing you and Lord Death and Spirit, the way you'd die for them, or Soul and Kid, or Tsubaki and Black*Star, her, not him, because he's too dense to realize yet, and oh no, I wasn't supposed to ever say anything about that in front of him, I'm sorry Tsubaki, I just don't know how to deal with Dr. Stein thinking I don't know the difference between real love and messed up captivity feelings, because Maka needs to know I do, and Justin needs me to speak for him because he's not here, and I'm not very good at talking, and I won't know how to deal with it if I mess this up."

Black*Star was looking at Tsubaki, really looking, and she was blushing, but she looked him in the eye. "You shouldn't try to keep secrets from Gods. I've known all along how you feel about me," Black*Star claimed with his usual bravado, even as he crossed his arms defensively.

"I didn't want you to feel awkward about not feeling the same way," Tsubaki apologized gently.

Black*Star frowned, uncrossing his arms. "Who told you I don't feel the same way? Tell me who the little liar is so I can punch them for you," he demanded.

Her eyes widened at the implication, the unintentional confession, and astonishingly, Black*Star blushed.

Soul would have kidded him about it, if still wasn't so pissed off at Crona and Maka for letting Giriko escape, and worried about Kid.

Tsubaki kissed Black*Star on the cheek. "You're so sweet, offering to beat them up for me, when you know I can do it myself," she said happily.

Soul went to Kid's side, watching critically as Stein began sawing off the cast, the sound of the blades making him fume. It sounded like Giriko, and if Kid had been awake to hear that, it would have been freaking him out, and he wanted to _murder_ that smug bastard. How could Maka and Crona just let him get away after what he'd done? He'd almost killed Kid.

And why didn't he kill him anyway? To hell with what that fucked in the head Autonomous Weapon thought. Except Maka would have hated him then, and Crona would have tried to stop him, and if he hurt Crona, Maka would have really hated him, and damn it, this was all so messed up! Things like this weren't supposed to happen, now that the war was over, now that Asura was dead.

"It will always be dangerous to be a Weapon or a Meister or even a Reaper," Stein said softly as he cut away the last bit holding the cast together, in that creepy way he had of knowing what everyone was thinking, especially the more fucked up the things they were thinking were.

"That's why Meisters and Weapons and Reapers are so strong, though, so they can protect others from the dangers of the world, the ones not strong enough to protect themselves. Sometimes Meisters die and sometimes Weapons die and very rarely, even Reapers die. But Kid isn't in danger of dying, or even truly going insane, though it might have looked like that to some of you. This is who Kid is. His need for symmetry, for balance, is an innate part of him. If anything, because he's always so carefully controlled, he's a lot less likely to fall to the Madness than someone like Death.

"Also, because he's still human, for now: he still has a body, he still needs to eat and breathe, he can still bleed. The danger will be greatest once those things become optional for him. Gods are at their most dangerous when they forget what it's like to be human, when they can't remember what it is they were trying to protect. Spirit and I are going to see to it that Death isn't able to forget that again. It's up to you, Soul, to make sure Kid never loses sight of that for himself. And Liz and Patty of course, to a lesser extent. But you do realize one day you'll become the Reaper's Death Scythe, that Kid will be the one wielding you instead of Maka? Or at least, along with her," he qualified, looking at the mirror Death had disappeared into.

"Yeah, I get that. Although I always kind of pictured Lord Death being the Reaper to wield me. I mean, in order for Kid to…" He frowned, looking at the mirror.

Stein sighed. "Lord Death will die, eventually, you know. Every being that lives eventually dies. Even Reapers aren't immortal. But hopefully it will be a very, very long time until Kid becomes the new Lord Death."

"Excuse us for interrupting, but Angela wanted to offer her assistance," Mifune said, holding the little Witch girl in his arms.

"Now that I'm feeling better and am stronger again, I'd like to finish healing Kid's arm. Now that he doesn't need the cast anymore – not just the healing, the protection – I can drain my magic from the ward, along with Mifune's and my protection wards, and mix it with the rest of my magic to heal his arm directly. And his ribs and leg."

Stein frowned, but not in an angry way, in a thoughtful way. "Actually, Kid's own Reaper healing ability has rebounded, now that he doesn't have so many severe injuries overtaxing it. What would actually help him more would be if you could heal Liz instead. Because I know it's not just seeing her badly injured and in bed that has him so upset, but the scars she's going to have, and from what Crona was saying, Witches can heal without leaving scars. Seeing her well again, and not scarred, would be the best thing you could do for Kid," Stein said.

"Oh! I can do that!" Angela said brightly.

"No way. I'm fine, I'm tough. You fix Kid," Liz complained.

"Nu-uh. The Doc's right, Sis. You know Kid would feel loads better if you were alright again. He yelled at me for being alone before, because I wasn't being symmetrical with you, and the way he looked, like it hurt to say it, even though it was true, I don't want to see that look anymore. Kid's eyes aren't supposed to look like that. They're supposed to be golden and smiling, like the Sun."

"Patty, Kid's eyes haven't ever smiled like that crazy Sun," Liz scolded.

"Of course they have! They do every time we're in perfect symmetry, or when he sees Maka's ponytails are exactly the same length, or there's just enough ice cream left for two more spoonfuls, or lots of times!" Patty argued.

"She's right, you know. I've seen it. Before he met you girls, he had the saddest eyes I'd ever seen, next to Spirit's. But ever since you've partnered with him, his eyes have been changing. They won't ever be as perfect as Death's, because they're not the color of Spirit's hair, but they're still beautiful when they smile," Stein said unexpectedly.

"Death's eyes are the color of my father's hair? You mean he really does have a face behind the mask?" Maka asked in surprise.

"Sometimes," Stein admitted, mysteriously.

"OK, enough. It's just too weird hearing you people talk about Kid's eyes like that. I mean, they're just eyes, for goodness sakes. He just uses them to see like everybody else," Liz snapped.

"So you'll let me heal you?" Angela asked eagerly.

Liz frowned suspiciously. "This had better not hurt," she grumbled. "Not that I can't take it, but you'll upset Patty," she added, as if her toughness had ever been in question.

"It won't, I promise. It just feels sort of warm and tingly, like being hugged by kittens. At least that's what Mifune told me," Angela said wisely.

"Kittens, huh?" Liz asked, with a smirk.

"When you live with Angela, you learn to describe things in terms of kittens," the gentle Samurai said, obviously not feeling the same need as Liz to appear tough.

"OK, Cat Girl, do your thing," Liz grudgingly agreed.


	21. Chapter 21 - Turnabout: Witches

**These characters are under copyright by** **Atsushi Ōkubo, Squar Enix, Yen Press, Shōnen,** **  
Akatsuki Yamatoya.** **Madman Entertainment, Manga Entertainment, Funimation,** **and/or others. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.**

Chapter 21 – Turnabout: Witches in the DWMA?

Liz refused to admit in front of the others, especially her sister, that she was afraid of a Witch who only came up to her thigh. But Witches knew magic, and they were sneaky and deadly, and damn it, how was she supposed to be leery of someone who was so ridiculously young and innocent? It was like being terrified of a kindergartner, for Death's sake.

"Just lie still and relax," the little Witch girl told her.

Lying still was about all she was good for right now. It hurt every time she moved. Hell, it hurt to breathe, but she was glad for every wince, because she _was_ still breathing, and for a scary while there, she couldn't.

"Can I hold Liz's hand, the way she holds mine, when I'm sick?" Patty asked.

Angela bit her lip and shook her head. "If you did, it would siphon my magic off into you, too, and I'm not strong enough for that right now."

"Sorry, Sis. But if you're brave and take your medicine like a good girl, I'll buy you an ice cream when you're better," Patty promised.

 _Terrific._ Now she not only felt like an idiot, but she wouldn't be able to use that line on Patty, the next time she was sick, without remembering how ridiculous it made her feel. "I'm fine. Just get it over with," Liz griped.

Angela folded her arms and glared at her. "That wasn't very polite. You need to say 'please'."

"Look you little brat…" Liz snarled, sitting up without thinking, and then she was gasping, because she couldn't even scream, and falling back, and she was going to die, and Lord Death, it _hurt,_ and she could feel tears streaming down her face, and she actually groaned, or maybe even whimpered, she'd never been so weak and humiliated and useless in her life and…

Warm. So warm, and soft, like the comforter she used to have when she was a kid, before she and Patty had to run, before they ended up on the street, in the cold, hard, dark, and… bright and soft and warm and orange, so orange. Orange was her new favorite color. She was going to paint her room orange, dye her hair orange, but then Kid would have a cow, and what did that even mean, anyway, having a cow, and whoa, kittens, that crazy Samurai was right, they were everywhere, rubbing against her arms and chin, working their way down to her chest, which didn't hurt at all for some reason, it was just… orange kittens.

0 0 0

Patty stared wide-eyed as the little Witch girl healed her sister. Liz had gotten her angry, and she thought Angela wasn't going to help her, but then when Liz started crying and moaning, Angela's hands had immediately lit up orange, and then Liz's whole body had glowed orange, and suddenly she wasn't wincing and whimpering and crying, she was smiling, all happy and goofy, grinning.

She'd never seen Liz smile like that, or maybe she had, but years ago, before they left their home, which wasn't really safe and nice like she thought, but dangerous, which is why they had to run away. Liz had never told her exactly why, but the few times she'd tried to ask, Liz had gotten this terrible look on her face, just sad and furious, like she wanted to kill someone, but also, afraid, and Liz should never, ever be afraid of anyone or anything, so she'd learned not to ask.

Then without warning, the little Witch girl fell over, she just collapsed, and Mifune cried out "Angela!" and caught her, looking worried and afraid. He pressed a hand to her chest, her heart, and the fear melted away, but he still looked serious and grim.

"I'm sorry, I hope that was enough, because if she tries to do more, it'll kill her," he accused.

Patty was pretty sure he wouldn't have said that if Angela wasn't sleeping, because no one wants to hear they might die. Her eyes flew to her sister, because Liz had almost died, before, and what if the magic had hurt her because it stopped so abruptly?

"Liz?" she asked cautiously.

"Mmm?" Liz replied sleepily, and then she reached out both arms and stretched and sat up, and Patty was afraid she was going to scream or cry or whimper or something, but instead, she kept stretching, and she was grinning like a goofball, like that time they'd found all those bottles in the basement they'd been staying in, and Liz had cried, "Pay dirt!" and drunk a whole bottle all to herself, and didn't let her have any. It was the first time Liz hadn't shared, but she'd said she wouldn't like it, and she was right, because after she was asleep, all sprawled out on the floor, she took a drink and it was awful, all sour and weird, and she didn't know why anyone would ever drink wine.

"Are you OK, Sis?" Patty asked cautiously

Liz's eyes widened in surprise, like she hadn't realized anyone else was in the room, and then she focused on her, and on Angela. "Holy crap!" she said, and then she was pulling at her bandages.

"Stop that! Lay back down and let me take a look," Stein said authoritatively, sounding like a real doctor, not like a crazy loon, which was actually some kind of bird, so she didn't know why people called crazy people that, but…

"Holy crap!" Patty echoed, as the bandages were peeled away, revealing the smooth perfect skin of Liz's tummy and chest and her breasts, too, because she wasn't wearing a bra or a shirt and…

"If you weren't gay, I'd smack you," Liz snarled, as she snatched up the blanket, covering her, glaring at Stein.

"I'm a doctor," Stein said, sounding more creepy than reassuring.

"More like a mad scientist, you freak," Liz retorted.

That made Patty laugh, because her sister was funny and wasn't hurt any more, which meant now Kid wouldn't have to be crazy, at least, not scary crazy, just weird and goofy crazy, with all his talk about symmetry and stuff.

"Can we show Kid?" Patty asked eagerly, and then she swallowed, hard, because suddenly Liz just looked scared and lost and…

"I… um… don't think it's a good idea to wake Kid up without his father here," Liz said softly, and Liz never talked softly, she always either talked tough or yelled, which meant Kid was still broken, and maybe Liz was still broken too, even if she didn't look broken, like Kid. Maybe all her scars were on the inside, where they couldn't be seen or fixed, and now what could anyone do?

0 0 0

Crona shifted nervously, their weight going from one foot to the other, hovering outside the Infirmary door, not wanting to go in and upset Soul or the others more than they already had.

"Stop fidgeting! It makes you look guilty, which makes me look guilty, and you're the one who committed treason, not me," Ragnarok snapped.

"I didn't commit treason!" Crona cried indignantly. Then they shrank in on themself. "Did I?" they whispered meekly.

"Lord Death told you to rescue Justin and kill Giriko. Instead, you saved Giriko's life and let him run off with Justin. You healed and rewarded the man who nearly killed Death's son. I know if I was Death, I'd take my scythe and chop your head off with it," Ragnarok replied bluntly.

Crona swallowed hard and put their right hand to their throat protectively.

"You're lucky you're a Witch. That's the only thing that might save you now, since he doesn't want to break his treaty with them before the ink's even dry," Ragnarok added.

"I'm not a Witch! I just have Witch's blood… and powers… and I used them… I used magic… I… I'm a Witch," Crona whispered.

"What's the matter, Pinky, you got something against Witches?" a smug voice asked from behind them, making them yelp and jump, and spin around defensively.

"Kim!" Crona cried in relief, seeing their Meister friend standing beside her Weapon, Jackie. Only they and Jackie knew Kim was secretly also a Witch.

"It's so good to see you! But my name's Crona, not Pinky, and I've told you I don't like that nickname, although I guess it's a lot better than something really awful like Eternal Feather, so I suppose I shouldn't really complain, because then you might call me something worse, though I don't know why you call me that in the first place, when your hair is pink too."

"Wow. You must be really worked up about something, huh? You're doing that whole 'talking without breathing' thing again. You haven't been getting Crona into trouble again trying to kill people, have you Ragnarok?" Kim asked the Weapon casually.

"Tch. I'm not the one getting us into trouble, and we were _supposed_ to be killing someone. The Marshmallow Kid here is the one who was too soft and squishy to gut the bastard, not me," Ragnarok grumbled.

Crona scowled. "Don't call me that! Even Pinky is better than the Marshmallow Kid. Or Cotton Candy. Just because my hair's pink and you think I'm too sweet, don't start calling me Cotton Candy for Brains or something awful like that."

"Yeah, well, you'd better say goodbye to Pinky here now, while you've got the chance, Kim. Because once Lord Death comes back, if we're lucky he'll just banish us forever from Death City. But the way both he and his son have been going off the deep end, we'll be lucky to get out of here alive. In fact, let's go now, Crona, before those two crazies find us, because there's no way we can win against one Reaper, let alone two, no matter how cracked they are," Ragnarok urged.

Kim frowned. "I thought Kid was better. We heard he was rescued, that he's been healing," she said, exchanging a worried look with Jackie. "Although we also heard some crazy rumors about there being a Witch here in Death City, with healing powers, and we all know there aren't any Witches here, right Crona?"

Crona backed up a step. Kim had sounded really intimidating when she said that, like she was threatening them not to reveal her secret.

"It's not what you think! The Witch with healing powers is Angela, not y… anyone else, but there's not one Witch here, there's two, Angela and Michiko, and they've both been helping Kid and Lord Death, and he's declared a truce with the Witches, and he's going to send a peace delegation to the next Convocation, to officially end the war with the Witches, and they're not going to be hunted anymore, so all the Witches who are in hiding don't have to hide anymore," they said, looking pointedly at Kim.

"Only there's not two Witches here, there's three, there's me too. The only Witch who's in any danger right now is me, because I used my powers to heal the man who attacked Death's son, and I helped him escape with his hostage, Justin, and Lord Death's going to be really angry with me, and I don't know how I'm supposed to deal with him being angry like he's been, with his shadow going everywhere and attacking people instead of protecting them, but I'm not sorry I did it, because Justin's my best friend, and if Giriko died it would have hurt him, a lot, and he would probably have been really, really dangerous, too, because he loves Giriko, the way I love Maka, and I know if anyone ever killed her, they'd wish they'd never been born, not like the way I wish I was never born, but I mean, I'd hurt them so badly before I killed them that…"

They stopped talking, because Kim was looking stunned, and so was Jackie, and even Ragnarok looked a little freaked out, and had they really looked that scary, or was it just them talking about killing people?

"Wow. Did you just admit out loud that you love Maka Albarn?" Kim challenged loudly.

The tone of her voice made them scowl, because it was taunting, and they hated being teased, and… "Yes, I love Maka! I just told you, didn't I?" they shrilled, furious, because no one ever took them seriously and…

"You love me?" an incredulous voice asked from behind them, and then they realized why Kim was being such a jerk, so they'd say it again, so Maka could hear, and oh Lord Death, what was Maka going to say?

They turned around, and stepped back, because Maka looked really angry, she was scowling, which meant she didn't love them back, and they were just going to crawl in a hole and die, but they might not be able to, because the last time they'd been in a hole and wanted to die, in the desert, Maka had found them and pulled them out.

"And you thought the best way to tell me that was to scream it at Kim?" Maka accused.

Crona grabbed their arm behind their back, anxiously, and bit their lip, and looked to the right and left, instead of into Maka's eyes, because they didn't want to see her looking angry or disappointed or disgusted and…

And Maka was grabbing them by the head, and she was going to squeeze them so hard their brains were going to come out of their ears and… _Oh Lord Death, are those really Maka's lips? Is Maka actually kissing me? Why is she kissing me?_

But then she wasn't, and Crona realized in a panic they hadn't kissed her back, and now Maka would never kiss them again, and they were just going to… _to have to kiss her back, right now, before she got away!_

Crona dove forward, tackling Maka, knocking her to the ground, because they were so anxious not to let her get away, and Kim was _laughing,_ like it was funny that she'd knocked Maka down when they were trying to be romantic.

"Well, my work here is done," Kim said with a smirk in her voice, and probably on her face, but Crona couldn't check, because they were looking at Maka and… and then Maka was pulling their face down to kiss them again, and they stopped caring who was watching, or why.


	22. Chapter 22 - Awake Again: But Is Kid

**These characters are under copyright by** **Atsushi Ōkubo, Squar Enix, Yen Press, Shōnen,** **  
Akatsuki Yamatoya.** **Madman Entertainment, Manga Entertainment, Funimation,** **and/or others. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.**

Chapter 22 – Awake Again: But Is Kid Really Alright?

Soul stepped back into the Infirmary, hands fisted, feeling betrayed. Crona had let that bastard Giriko escape, they'd healed him, and rewarded him for hurting Kid by giving him Justin, like he was a trophy. He wanted them both dead, and maybe Crona too, and that last part was kind of disturbing, because he kept picturing Crona cowering as he strangled them with his bare hands, their fear, the way they'd looked just now, when they thought Maka was going to hurt them. He didn't want to use his blade, because he wanted it to be slow and terrifying, but not cutting, not like Kid, because they didn't deserve to be hurt in the same way.

"You need to calm down, Soul. Kid's going to be fine," Stein said, which made them want to strangle him, too, because Kid obviously was anything but fine, and Stein had to be a complete idiot or certifiable to believe he'd ever be fine again.

"You need to have more faith, Soul. Kid's a lot stronger than he looks, a lot tougher that most people give him credit for, but I thought you, of all people, would realize that, without having to have someone like me tell you," Stein said calmly, lighting a damned cigarette and taking a drag, which made Soul even more furious.

He yanked the cigarette out of his mouth and stomped on it. "Are you out of your fucking mind? You're in an Infirmary, asshole! There are sick people here! You can't smoke!"

"Actually, physically, everyone is fine. Kid's basically healed, and so is Liz, and Angela just overextended herself," Stein argued.

"I'm actually still injured, but more importantly, Angela is still just a kid," Mifune chided. "You shouldn't be smoking in front of anyone, but especially not a kid. It's bad for her health, not to mention yours. From what I've seen, you have two men who have done everything in their power to protect you. Don't you think it's pretty selfish of you to smoke?"

Stein had glared at Mifune at first, but by the time he finished, he looked guiltily at the cigarette on the floor, and then the door.

"You're right. I apologize," Dr. Stein said, to Soul's surprise, and picked up the cigarette.

"I think Dr. Bryant can take it from here. If anyone needs me, I'll be in Death Mansion, with Lord Death and Spirit. I don't think Kid will wake up this time until his father wants him to, but come get us if he does," Stein stated.

Soul nodded, not trusting himself to speak, because he was still so damned angry at everyone now that he just wanted to yell or smash things or kill someone.

"Dr. Stein, is it OK if Jackie and I come in?" Kim asked from the doorway.

"Kim. Of course. Kid knows you both, he likes you. Even though he's unconscious, he might still be able to hear you. It's comforting to hear familiar voices when you're unconscious or just not all there. It helps bring you back," Stein admitted bluntly.

"Now then, kids, if you'll excuse me, I have a Reaper of my own to console," Stein said, and he headed for the door.

Soul glared at his back as he left, and then headed for Kid's bed.

Kid looked too damned pale, but also weak and helpless, and that pissed him off, because Kid wasn't either of those things.

He pulled over a chair, because he wasn't budging until Kid woke up, and it might be a while. He sat down beside Kid and took his good hand, even though the cast was gone from the other one, because Kid wasn't fully healed yet, no matter what that mad scientist said. Still, he was glad the cast was gone, that Kid would be symmetrical again when he woke up.

"Hey, Kid. I just want you to know that… that we're back." He was going to tell him Justin was safe, but that would be a lie, because there was no way in hell Justin was safe with that murdering freak, even if maybe he hadn't killed anyone, at least no one they knew about, because all his host body's souls were still alive, except for the one Justin had killed. How had they even done that, pushed that one soul out and killed it?

He realized he was squeezing Kid's hand so tightly his fingers were turning blue and immediately let go, hating that he'd been hurting Kid without realizing it, and worse, that Kid hadn't even felt it, but relieved it at least wasn't his injured hand.

"I'm sorry. I wanted to bring Justin back for you, to save him, but he didn't want to be saved, and you can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved. But supposedly Giriko didn't hurt him, even though he cut him all over and they were… we saw… damn it! Just wake up, alright? You need to be OK, only as crazy as you're supposed to be, not like you've been. I promise Giriko won't ever touch you again, or anyone else. I'll kill anyone who tries to hurt you," Soul promised.

He wasn't any good at this boyfriend stuff. He'd told Kid things that were guaranteed to upset him, called him crazy and made death threats. Not exactly the kind of sweet nothings that people being courted liked to hear. But words had never been his strong suit. He spoke better with his fists, his blade.

"Hey, Patty, go find me some clothes," Liz ordered, distracting Soul, for a moment. "But don't go home, because… Hey Kim! You're about my size, and you're the only one around here other than us who knows how to dress cool. Lend me some clothes?" Liz asked, more a demand than a request.

"Well I don't know about lending them to you, but I could maybe rent them to you. You know, to pay for any wear and tear. Twenty, and you've got yourself an outfit," Kim bargained with a smirk.

"For twenty I'd better get leather," Liz said with a scowl.

"Denim. Leather'll cost you fifty," Kim haggled.

"I hate you," Liz griped.

"Yeah, I get that a lot," Kim said with a shrug, obviously not caring.

"Elizabeth, Kimial, do you have to be so loud? I'm trying to sleep," Kid chastised crankily.

Soul's eyes widened and flew to the bed. "Kid? You're awake? You sound… are you alright?" Soul asked anxiously, not daring to believe he could possibly be as normal as he sounded. Well, normal for Kid, anyway.

Kid frowned as he sat up. "Why wouldn't… oh," he said, his eyes widening as he took in the Infirmary, then flicking to his arm. "The cast's gone," he said, sounding stunned, his voice thick with either relief or dread, Soul wasn't sure.

Soul reached out with his soul, trying to feel Kid's soul, to attune his wavelength to him, so he could try to calm him, if he started to freak out again.

Then Kid saw his right hand, the torn and ragged nails and stared at it, horrified. "My hand. My nails! They're hideous!" he yelled.

"No, Kid, it's OK," Liz argued, quickly, running over to the bed. "You just need a manicure, and you'll be good as new."

"No, Liz! There's no way a simple manicure is going to… You're standing! You're… are you trying to kill yourself? Get back in bed this instant!" Kid bellowed, but he looked terrified for her, rather than angry.

"Kid, it's alright. The Witch Angela healed her," Soul soothed, even as he wrapped his soul around Kid's, trying to smooth all the chaotic, jagged edges that were poking out everywhere.

"Yeah, see? Good as new," Liz assured him, lifting the hospital gown she was wearing to flash her bare midriff to him.

"You're… there aren't even any scars," Kid murmured, stunned, reaching out and stroking her stomach, which had Liz's face turning bright red, before she smacked his hand away.

"No touching, you little pervert! That was the deal, remember? Liz and I stay with you, as long as you don't touch," Liz snapped.

Kid's face flushed. "Don't be disgusting. You're like a sister to me. You know I didn't mean it like that! Honestly, Liz, you know I'm gay and I've got a boyfriend," Kid snapped back at her, the way he always did, acerbic and biting but sane, rational, _normal._ He wasn't trying to swallow them all in shadow, he'd even been successfully distract by Liz so he'd forgotten for the moment that his nails were all messed up.

Soul's relief was short-lived as Kid's attention fell on his hand again. But before there could be another blowup, of any kind, Kim thrust a nail file and bottle of nail polish in front of Kid's face.

"Here, Pretty Boy. I just happen to have a nail file with me, and since you're Lord Death's son and all, I'll even give you a discount. It'll only cost you ten, and I'll even let you use Jackie's favorite pink nail polish, the one that matches my hair," Kim offered with a smirk.

Kid looked suitably horrified. " _Pink?_ You want me to paint my nails _pink?"_

Mifune walked up, a tiny bottle in his large hand. "Unless you want them pumpkin orange? I know Angela won't mind. And she always mixes a little of her magic into the bottle to make her nails grow faster and keep from breaking, which will help even out whatever you can't make right using the nail file."

A look of gratitude and relief warmed Kid's face. "Thank you, Mifune." Then he frowned, looking over at Angela. "Is she alright?" he asked suspiciously.

"She's fine. She's just taking a nap. She had a busy day, and she's still little. How are you feeling, Kid?" Mifune asked, with a warmth that had Soul grinding his teeth in jealousy, even though he was grateful to the man for not mentioning to Kid that she was unconscious because she wore herself out healing him.

Kid slipped his healing hand into Soul's and squeezed, gently, and the jealousy fled. Kid wasn't freaking out, and he'd been able to squeeze with his broken hand, to use it again. Soul knew these past few minutes didn't mean Kid was fine, he was certain there would be more issues, but Kid was at least coping for the moment, which was more than Soul could have asked for, and it was all thanks to Angela and Mifune, for rescuing him, for healing him, for being gentle and compassionate and understanding, when he needed it most.

"I'll paint mine orange too, so we match," Soul offered. Then he belatedly turned to Mifune. "If that's alright. I can buy her more, if we use it up."

"It's fine," Mifune said, smiling as he handed the bottle to him.

"We'd match?" Kid said hopefully, but then he frowned. "But we still wouldn't be symmetrical," he complained.

"No, but still, everyone will know Soul's yours. See?" she said, grabbing Jackie's hand and showing him they were both wearing the same shade of pink nail polish.

Jackie blushed.

"Alright. Orange it is," Kid agreed.

"Only if I paint them for both of us. You'd take forever. And don't glare at me like that. I do Maka's nails all the time. That's why they always look good. You'd think I'd be the one who doesn't color inside the lines, right? But you should see the mess she makes when she tries," Soul smirked.

"So you wash her hair and do her nails?" Kid asked, surprised.

"Soul Eater Evans! You promised you'd never tell anyone!" Maka yelled, stalking over to the bed, looking furious.

"Wow, Soul. So underneath that cool and blustery exterior lurks the heart of a hair dresser and beautician? Talk about stereotypes. I mean honestly, you couldn't be more gay if you dyed your hair rainbow colors and started marching in parades," Kim scoffed.

"Kim!" Jackie scolded, the single word conveying how appalled and mortified she was by her Meister.

"Bite me!" Soul snarled.

"Don't you dare put your mouth near him!" Kid demanded indignantly.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Pretty Boy. My girlfriend doesn't share," Kim replied with a self satisfied smirk and look at Jackie, which made her blush furiously.

"You know, just because Angela looks like she's still asleep, doesn't mean she is. Be careful what you say around her. She's a little too young for me to have to start explaining things, and trust me, she _will_ ask," Mifune scolded.

"Of course," Kid immediately agreed. "Instead, why don't we talk about your new house, exactly what kind you'd like to have, here in Death City. You'll both be staying, won't you? I promised you a new home, and I'd like it to be here, with us, where we can help keep Angela safe, until she's older, and better able to protect herself. It hasn't only been witches who have been after her in the past," Kid pointed out.

"Thank you. We really appreciate it," Mifune replied.

"I'll never be able to repay you for all the two of you did for me. You saved my life. You healed Liz. A house is nothing, compared to that," Kid stated.

"Maybe a house isn't. But a safe home? I'd say that makes us even," Mifune said with a smile.

"Do you know where my father is, Soul? I want to talk to him about their house. I'm surprised he's not here, hovering, after… What's wrong?" Kid demanded.

Soul squirmed under his gaze. "You father's with Stein and Spirit. They shouldn't be disturbed right now." He hoped Kid would jump to the wrong conclusion.

"It's not like Stein to leave the Infirmary when there are patients here, and you're avoiding looking into my eyes. What aren't you telling me?" Kid demanded.

Soul sighed. "Your father got upset, and Stein and Spirit are trying to help him." He'd admit that much, and hope it was enough.

"Come on, Kid, it's not like you need your dad for this yet, right? Let's check _Death News_ , see what houses are on the market, and line up some appointments for Mifune and Angela to view them. That way, they can move in a lot sooner," Kim suggested, again deftly changing the topic.

"That's a wonderful idea! We can help you look at them, if you like. Kim and I just moved out of the dorms into an apartment, so we know all kinds of helpful things, about what you should look for and look out for," Jackie volunteered. "You know, how 'quaint' means old and rundown, and 'modest' or 'cozy' means too tiny to breathe. The ones that say 'character' though, sometimes that can be really wonderful."

"You'll have it easy, because having pets isn't a problem when you buy a place, not like when you rent, and Angela has a cat," Kim commented.

"Actually, in the past, anywhere from 10 to 20 of them, though usually they'd just visit. Now that she has her own familiar, though, that might change," Mifune commented.

"Speaking of pets, I've got a dog to feed. Plus a leather outfit to bring. I'll pick up the paper and bring it on my swing back. Meanwhile, start talking about what size house and yard you want, whether a view is important, closeness to stores, that kind of thing. Catcha later, guys," Kim said with a wave.

Soul was relieved when Kid started speaking to Mifune about the house, both his mangled nails and his father's absence temporarily forgotten. The longer Kid could stay calm, before hearing about Giriko and Justin, the better, and his father definitely needed to be present for that conversation.


	23. Chapter 23 - One Witch, Two Witches

**These characters are under copyright by** **Atsushi Ōkubo, Squar Enix, Yen Press, Shōnen,** **  
Akatsuki Yamatoya.** **Madman Entertainment, Manga Entertainment, Funimation,** **and/or others. This is a work of fanfiction, for no monetary gain.**

Chapter 23 – One Witch, Two Witches, Three Witches, Four: How Many More Witches Will Slip through Death's Door?

"So, Crona told me we're going to declare a truce with the Witches. What's up with that?" Kim asked Kid cautiously and skeptically. _There's was no way that can be true, can it? Are they really that stupid? That naïve? That gullible? Witches are monsters, they're evil. They can't be trusted. They lie and trick and deceive; they steal your souls even when you think you're on your guard against them._

Kim surreptitiously watched the little girl blatantly dressed like a Witch, who was lying in one of the beds, in case she tried to attack. She listened intently as Kid explained about the Witch Angela, with the occasional interjection by the sandy blond haired man who was sitting beside her bed. This was apparently the Witch who'd saved Kid's life – which was just nuts, because she couldn't be more than five, maybe seven years old, at a stretch.

 _She can't really be that powerful at that young an age, can she? Not and still be as innocent as she looks._ Kim knew firsthand that Witches were expert at looking innocent, right up until they killed you. They could even fool other Witches. She fought a shudder and forced the memories away, with the skill of long practice.

Kim was surprised to learn that the guy with the long hair, Mifune, was Angela's bodyguard, even though he was just a regular human. She wondered what kind of spell the little Witch girl was using to keep him in her thrall. It was obvious why she needed him. He was more than just a bodyguard: he'd be the one helping her catch and kill her victims, the human sacrifices she needed to give her all that extra power.

 _So why did she help Kid? What's her angle? Pretend to be good, get into the DWMA, and destroy it from the inside, the way Medusa could have, if she'd been stronger and smarter?_

"Stop being so cynical, Kim. It's obvious he's protecting her because she's small and young and sweet. I'd protect her too," Jackie commented softly, apparently seeing the direction of her gaze and sensing the direction of her thoughts, completely fooled by the little monster.

 _That's because you try to see the good in everyone, even when it's not there, even in me, and you're a sucker for Witches,_ Kim wanted to say, but of course, she didn't dare risk it. She wanted to get Jackie away from the dangerous Witch, but she couldn't leave her other friends in here alone and unprotected, either, not while Kid was still injured, and he wouldn't be lying in a bed here if he wasn't. Not that she knew much protection magic, other than the few spells she learned before… _Don't think about that! Stop it!_

Kim forced her attention away from the Witch and back to her friends. She was relieved everyone looked so healthy. She'd been really conflicted, when she'd heard how badly Kid and Liz were hurt, but not just them: Soul, Maka, Black*Star and Tsubaki too. Soul was hovering over Kid growling like a dog protecting his favorite bone, but other than that, he looked fine, and so did Maka. Black*Star and Tsubaki weren't here, so they must be alright, because the others weren't grieving either. Even Liz was on her feet. Kid was the only one still in a bed, but he didn't look impaired or in pain. Which meant she didn't need to risk discovery after all, by subtly trying to heal anyone's injuries. Not that she would have dared do that in front of the other Witch.

Kim wanted to scream when Kid finished explaining about Angela, and told him there was a second Witch here, one Lord Death had actually invited in: he'd welcomed, the Witch Michiko, Angela's bodyguard Mifune's friend.

It was clear Kid was completely smitten by the Witch Angela. _But how can Lord Death be fooled again, after Medusa? Didn't he learn anything?_

Then Kid scowled and looked at Soul. "What happened on your mission? Where's Justin? I want to see him. I… I might be able to help him, a little. I know what he…" he paled and looked ill. "Mostly. I can…" His eyes widened as he looked around, and he looked increasingly agitated. "He's not in here. But he can't be in the smaller Infirmary, because Stein or Dr. Bryant would be with him, but Stein's with my father and Dr. Bryant is here and… Where's Justin?"

The look of helpless fury on Soul's face would have been frightening, if Kim scared easily.

"Why don't you ask your friend Crona about that, if they're done necking Maka in the hallway?" Soul snapped acidly.

Kim carefully hid her surprise. She never expected to hear such vitriol from him talking about Maka . _Whoa. Soul looks and sounds jealous, which is nuts, because Maka is like a sister to him._ She frowned. Which meant he objected to Crona being the one with Maka for another reason. "You got a problem with Crona?" Kim inquired, a dangerously silky edge to her voice that Jackie clearly immediately recognized and had her standing extra close.

"Why? Going to charge them protection money for keeping me away from them?" Soul sniped.

"You got a problem with me too, asshole?" Kim demanded, fisting her hands.

"What, with someone who charges her friends for every tiny little favor she deigns to do for them? Clothes for Liz, nail polish for Kid. They both almost died, you mercenary, opportunistic bitch," Soul snarled.

Kid's hand darted off the bed and wrapped around Soul's wrist, even as Jackie's did the same for her, restraining them from lunging at one another.

"Soul! I want you to apologize to Kimial right now. She has her own way of expressing her concern for and assisting her friends," Kid chastised and explained.

"I don't need you to fight my battles for me, Pretty Boy. I've been doing that since I was nine," Kim snapped. Unexpectedly, without warning, those memories she'd been battling down so successfully flared – the hidden basement chamber her mother had never allowed her to enter until minutes before midnight on her ninth birthday, and then had shown her so proudly – the ceremony, the blood, the terrified sobbing and begging of the sacrifice, a girl that looked her age, the screaming, the girl's and hers mingled together. _"Help me! She's going to kill me! Mommy! Mommmmyyyyy! Dadddyyyy! Save me!" "Stop it! Stop! Mother, what are you doing? No, don't, you can't!"_ Even as the knife sliced deeper, the killing cut.

A silver athame, stained red, the raw healing magic flowing out of her like water as she tried to save the dying girl, the ward beneath her glowing with power, siphoned into her mother, as the sacrifice's life drained into it, her life drained into it, through the girl she was desperately trying to save. The panic and horror in her mother's eyes, the magical backlash as her mother broke the spell, in an attempt to save her, flinging her against the stone wall. Her mother reaching for her weakly, as she grabbed the strange girl by the wrist and yanked her along, stumbling up the stairs. Running, the girl breaking away, running, running, running.

0 0 0

One minute Soul and Kim were exchanging insults, and the next there was a flare of silver light coming from Michiko, who had just entered the infirmary, and an answering explosion of gold light radiating from Kim, who'd suddenly gone rigid.

Kid tensed as he felt a torrent of magic wash over him, his shadow instantly defensively surrounding him, to protect him, enveloping Soul as well, as an unfamiliar Witch's soul pulsed bright and strong directly in front of him.

 _A Witch!_ Somehow a Witch had entered the DWMA and impersonated Kim, an enemy, like Medusa. _Soul! Liz! Patty! Mifune! Angela! Michiko! Jackie!_ _I have to save them, protect everyone!_

But then the doppelganger Witch collapsed, ghostly pale, crumpling at Jackie's feet.

"Jackie, kill her! That's not Kim, it's a Witch! Liz! Patty!" Kid ordered, as the shadow dropped and Liz and Patty flew into his outstretched hands.

"No! Don't hurt her!" Jackie yelled, panicked, dropping at the Witch's side, enveloping her in her arms, covering her with her body, making it impossible for Kid to get a clear shot.

"No! Wait! Stop! Don't hurt her!" Crona yelled, running into the room, Maka at their heels. "Ragnarok, protect Kim!" Crona yelled, and Ragnarok emerged, not a sword this time, but a shield, a dome of black blood protectively cupping over the Witch and Jackie.

"Crona, no! That's a Witch!" Kid yelled in frustration.

"I know Kim's a Witch! But she's a good Witch, like me, like Angela, like Michiko! How did you find out? Why did you attack her, when your father is making a treaty? I told her we'd all be safe now, I didn't want her to have to hide anymore, to lie to her friends. Why are you ruining everything?" Crona demanded, yelling shrilly.

Kid stared at Crona in confusion. "What are you…? You mean that really is Kim? Kim's a Witch?" Kid asked, stunned.

"Oh no! You mean you didn't know? But you… and she… I can't deal with this! How can you not know, but attack her and call her a Witch and… What's going on?" Crona pleaded.

"I think I can explain. I'm afraid this is all my fault, but it's wasn't intentional, I assure you," Michiko said, her voice thick with regret and compassion, looking from Kim's concealed form and then warily at Kid, from where she was now standing protectively beside Mifune and Angela.

Kid was relieved to see his new friends looked unharmed by the wave of magic Kim had unleashed. In fact, Mifune looked surprisingly strong, his color far better than before, the lines of pain around his eyes gone.

"Mifune, is Angela strong enough to help her? Did that blast of healing energy restore her enough? I don't know healing magic, and from what I felt, the Witch Kim has drained herself dangerously," Michiko said in concern.

"Angela's still asleep, and I'm sorry, but I can't risk it. You know Angela: she'll try even if she's not strong enough. She'll kill herself trying to save her," Mifune argued.

"I can do it, if I can touch her," Crona proposed. "But Kid, Soul, everyone, you have to promise not to attack Kim. I'll explain everything to you, and if you want to exile me and Jackie for knowing Kim was a Witch, from hiding it from you, and exile Kim too, we'll all go quietly, but you have to promise you won't hurt Kim," Crona bargained.

Kid stared at Crona levelly. "That really is Kimial? She's a Witch? And you and Jacqueline knew?" He tried to keep the pain of their betrayal out of his voice, but he could hear it clearly.

Crona nodded mutely, their face creased with guilt, but also fierce with determination.

"She attacked us," Kid accused, enraged by the knowledge that someone he thought he knew so well would betray them.

"No, she didn't. That was healing magic you felt. Witch Crona, you need to see to her immediately", Michiko argued and urged.

"Fine. As long as she doesn't try to harm anyone, we won't attack her," Kid reluctantly agreed. "But what can you do, Crona? You're not a Witch."

"Yes, I am. I'm my mother's child, only different. Like Kim. Ragnarok!" Crona called, and the shell drew back into their body, revealing Kim and Jackie.

Jackie was staring wild eyed and shaking, clinging protectively to Kim, who was distressingly pale, and either unconscious or… Kid breathed a sigh of relief as he felt her soul weakly pulse with energy. He could sense it, now that he was calmer – the familiar signature of Kim's soul within the Witch's soul, part of it.

Crona bit their lip and held their hands to Kim's head and chest, and healing magic flowed from Crona into Kim's still form.

Kid watched, stunned and confused. _Since when does Crona use magic? How do they know how to heal?_

Kim's color immediately improved, even as Crona grew paler than usual.

"Crona, that's enough!" Maka ordered, as Crona swayed, alarm in her voice. "You're going to kill yourself! After saving Giriko and healing Justin, you can't do more!"

Kid froze, shocked and horrified. _Giriko? Crona saved Giriko? Healed him with her magic? Why?_

"Don't worry, I won't. I only returned what she gave me, and added some of my own," Crona claimed calmly, as if they'd been using magic their entire life.

Kim stiffened in Jackie's arms, and her eyes flew open. She looked around wildly when she saw everyone standing around her and struggled to her feet, looking like she was ready to run, but Jackie clamped her arms around her and wouldn't let her budge. "It's alright, Kim. Kid promised no one will hurt you unless you attack them, so you need to calm down. We have to explain. Kid's our friend. He'll listen. Give him a chance."

"It broke. How did it break?" Kim asked, sounding shell-shocked, dazed, horrified.

"I'm afraid that was my fault. When our souls resonated so unexpectedly and completely, and the defensive wards in my kimono detected such a powerful Soul Protect ward, they mistook the deception, the concealment, for an attack and nullified all your active wards. Well, your single ward. I only sensed the Soul Protect ward failing. However, I don't know what caused that near lethal magical flare of healing magic, unless it was whatever memories were triggered when we resonated.

Kim shivered. "That was why…" she whispered, paling again, shrinking in on herself, looking small and lost and broken.

"Stop that!" Kid demanded, unable to bear seeing Kim sink into herself that way, as if she were him, when she was always so strong, so unaffected by the chaos all around them.

To his horror, Kim actually flinched, and soft-spoken, gentle Jackie glared murderously at him.

"I just meant, you don't need to be afraid of us, Kim," Kid said gently. "We're not going to hurt you. You've never harmed any of us. Have you?" he asked, suddenly unsure.

"Of course not!" Jackie snapped indignantly.

"You need to stop looking at Kid like that," Soul threatened menacingly.

"Honestly, Soul, I can take care of myself. I am a Reaper, you know," Kid scolded.

"It's not Jackie's and Crona's faults they didn't tell you I was a Witch. I put a spell on them to keep them from telling you and in case it ever broke, threatened to kill them if they did," Kim suddenly claimed, her voice nearly as cool and calculating as always, but Kid could hear the underlying desperation in it.

"Kim! Why would you… She's lying! She never threatened anyone! She's just trying to protect us. I chose not to tell anyone, when I discovered her secret, and so did Crona. Because she can't help who her mother was. She didn't ask to be born a Witch, no more than Crona did. And she's never hurt anyone. She's even risked her own life, healing people secretly – Meisters and Weapons.

"And I thought there was supposed to be a truce. How can you expect to make peace with Witches you don't even know, if you're so ready to turn on someone who's been a friend, who's fought for the DWMA for years?" Jackie accused passionately.

"Why did you join the DWMA?" Kid questioned. He needed to learn her motives.

"Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer, right?" Kim stated in a flip voice.

"Stop that! Why are you trying to sound guilty? You're not protecting us that way, you're only hurting yourself, you selfless idiot!" Jackie screeched.

Kim blinked. "Selfless? Me?" Then she laughed bitterly. "I've never done a selfless thing in my life. Soul's right. I'm scum. I tried to warn you years ago. Why can't you see that?"

"Because you're _not_. I know you better than that," Jackie insisted. "You didn't gain anything by healing Anya, and it was because of that I actually first started truly suspecting you were a Witch. You healed Ox and me and others, during the War, too. The very fact that you're a Meister, that you're doing what you can to protect everyone from Kishin Eggs proves you're good. So stop believing you're a horrible human being, just because of your mother. We can't choose our parents, but we can choose who we become."

"Forgive me for assuming the worst, Kimial. Obviously old habits are going to be hard to break, but we need to have a different perception, a different outlook, if we're going to achieve a lasting peace. No one is going to punish you for being a Witch's child, or from hiding that fact, not with all the help you've been over the years. We'd be fools to force away someone who has been such an asset to us, who has been nothing but loyal at heart. I'll make certain my father understands. Perhaps you would even be willing to aid us in our diplomatic efforts? You as well, Crona," Kid proposed.

Kim looked at him wide-eyed. "Me? A diplomat? Could you pick a less appropriate person?"

Kid smirked. "Yes. I could have picked Soul."

Soul eyed him. "I'll have you know I'm already a skilled diplomat. I can't tell you how many times I talked Maka down from killing her father."

"I'm certain my father appreciates that," Kid replied, and then he frowned. "Where is my father? Why isn't he here? And why was Giriko healed, instead of being killed? And you mentioned healing Justin. What happened to him? Where is he?"

Maka and Crona both looked guilty, and Soul looked even angrier than before.

"It's complicated. But I'll explain, as well as I can," Crona volunteered, to Kid's surprise.

Kid was certain from their expressions he wasn't going to like what he heard, but whatever had happened had apparently improved Crona's confidence by leaps and bounds. Considering the size of that silver lining, Kid was all the more leery of the size of the associated dark cloud. He braced himself to hear the news that had Soul fuming.


	24. Chapter 24 - Hiatus Notice

Chapter 24 – Hiatus Notice

A/N:  
This story is **not** abandoned and will be completed, but it is currently on hiatus, until November at the earliest. Life has gotten in the way. There are only a few chapters left to go. I am currently posting other stories that I'd already written but hadn't posted yet.


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